One night in Vegas
by Mrs Criss 2012
Summary: AU. Kurt and Blaine meet one night in Vegas. But what the hell happened!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- Hello, you lovely readers, you! Have we all missed one another? Well look what happened. I became indulgent over the holidays and wrote this fun little fic. This is NOT the third instalment of the WMUI verse, that will be arriving in February. I had this little idea on my mind for a while and decided to get it out of my system before tackling 'Once in a Lifetime.' (That's the title of the WMUI one) because this one is easy to write, whereas I'm heavily invested in my WMUI verse and needed to clear the books in RL before letting it consume me once more. Get me. I'm so pretentious. _

_So, this fic is fun, like I said, but be warned for angst later on. You should also know that Blaine deals with depression in this (hence the angst) so just be aware if that's a trigger for any of you. This is my indulgence. It is not supposed to be realistic at all, just relax and go with it, but if it's not your thing then I understand! _

_This first chapter is a very brief scene setter, after that they become much longer, and there will be approx 18 chapters in total which I have nearly finished writing. Updates will be every Friday, Sunday and Wednesday, and I hope you enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing it. _

_Becky :)_

* * *

"Fuck!"

Blaine Anderson notices several things as he sits. First, his head feels like it may explode. Second, he is not in his own hotel room and third, he's in bed with another guy.

"Oh holy shit!" he whispers, scrambling out of the bed and surveying the room. Bottles lie everywhere. Wine, vodka, beer...and is that...champagne? It is to his relief that he is fully clothed, and a quick peek under the covers tells him the random stranger is too, but he still feels overwhelming guilt and shame as he runs a hand through his hair and searches desperately for his belongings. He finds his wallet next to the room phone, credit card by the side- presumably used to fund their excesses the night before. His own room key lies randomly on the floor next to a half eaten bunch of grapes for some absurd reason, and he locates his cell phone on the dressing table next to a piece of paper which he scans quickly then pockets, pulling on his shoes and cursing several times during the process. Standing, and trying not to stagger backwards from the searing pain in his head, Blaine takes one last, lingering look at the stranger before he runs.

"Get up, get up!" Blaine yells, sprinting into his own room and bursting through the adjoining door to where his best friend, Santana, lies sleeping. "Get up! Now! We have to go!"

"What?" she asks, sitting and rubbing blearily at her eyes. Her lips curve into a devilish grin when she sees Blaine standing there, and she appears almost cat-like as she crawls across the bed toward him. "So...someone didn't come home last night," she purrs. "Care to explain?"

"I uh..." he starts, but thinks better of it and shakes his head. "Not right now, no. We need to leave."

"Why?" Santana asks in confusion. "Our flight isn't until three, and it's not even eight."

"We'll get an earlier one...I'll pay," he adds, seeing the mutinous look on her face. "Please Santana, I'm begging you, I've...I've done something," he sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Something really terrible and I just want to get out of here."

"Jeez, you have a one night stand and suddenly the end of the world is nigh," she mutters angrily as she strides toward the bathroom. "Fine. We'll go. But you can pack my stuff."

Blaine sweats for the entire flight home. Whether it's through nerves, panic or simply excess alcohol he cannot tell, but he shifts and squirms uncomfortably in his seat the whole time until Santana hits him over the head with her book and snaps at him to stay still. The familiar New York skyline does nothing to comfort him either, just makes him feel as though the weight of the world is pressing down on him as the cab takes them back to their cramped apartment where he shuts himself away in his room. The knock on the door comes almost immediately, followed by the uninvited arrival of Santana who rolls her eyes at him before setting two mugs of tea on his nightstand and joining him on the bed.

"So. What happened?"

"Ugh," Blaine groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't remember."

"Any of it?" his friend asks in surprise.

"Um..."

The truth is, Blaine does remember. Bits. Flirting, laughing, smiling softly and taking the young man by surprise when he leaned up and daringly placed a gentle kiss to his cheek- not wanting to be so bold as to claim his lips. And the stranger himself...yes, he can remember him perfectly. Tall, lean yet strong, he carried himself with an air of aloofness which crumbled at some point during the evening leaving him completely open and honest in Blaine's company. He had started the evening by rolling his piercing blue eyes at Blaine's jokes, coolly informing him that he doesn't laugh and muttering something about hating his smile. But Blaine had persisted, grinning broadly when the man had thrown his head back and laughed loudly at something he said, showing off a beautiful smile which Blaine had deemed worthy of a kiss. It still wasn't on the lips though, he had raised the back of the strangers hand and kissed it softly, keeping eye contact all the while and feeling sparks of longing surging between them. Longing and arousal coupled with hope- the sweet promise of...something. But then the stranger had broken the moment by laughing nervously and suggesting they did shots...and the rest of the evening had faded to a blur.

"I remember drinking. A lot," Blaine offers weakly, pulling himself out of his reviere. "And I'm pretty sure that there was a limo involved at some point. But other than that...nothing."

"Let me fill you in," Santana says, handing him a mug and settling back against the headboard. "We were already drunk when the gayest guy I have ever seen walks in trailed by some doe-eyed girl who was dressed like she was twelve. Like us, a gay bff and his best hag."

"You're not a hag!" Blaine protests.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Santana preens. "Clearly," she retorts. "Anyway. You were staring, because you're as subtle as a brick when it comes to these things. I went to use the bathroom and when I returned you and the guy were grinding together on the dance floor in an act that was almost too explicit even for me. And the girl looked majorly affronted."

"I don't think...no," Blaine says quietly, shaking his head. "That's not... I remember dancing," he concedes. "But I wouldn't have behaved like that."

"Well you did," she says, sniggering at the memory of Blaine acting so completely out of character. "Anyway. I ordered another drink and settled in to watch, only you'd left with him while my back was turned."

"What?!" Blaine cries. "I left a Vegas bar with a complete stranger and you didn't think to come after me?!"

"Well you were a stranger to him, too."

"But you know me!" Blaine says, shocked. "Jeez. Thanks for looking out for me."

"Meh, you're a big boy," she smirks. "Besides, who am I to stand in the way of you finally getting laid?"

"Oh no," Blaine says quickly. "No, no. We didn't...uh...no. There was...no. We didn't um...have sex," he whispers, shamefaced. "None of that went on."

Santana stares, stony faced. "Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"Then can I ask why you're acting like you've committed the most heinous crime known to man?" she screeches. "You hauled my ass out of bed at eight this morning and paid over a thousand dollars for us to get an earlier flight. You hightailed it out of Vegas because...what? Huh?"

"Because..." Blaine splutters, "because...it's wrong, isn't it? To do that to someone."

"Do what?" Santana cries, trying not to laugh. "You didn't do anything. You told me this morning you'd done something terrible."

"I...we..." Blaine tries, before giving in. "Yeah. You're right. Just me being dumb. That's all."

"Try explaining that to daddy when he gets his credit card bill," Santana smirks. "Oh yeah, sorry about that. I got drunk in Vegas, didn't sleep with a guy and then legged it for no reason whatsoever."

"It's not like that!" Blaine snaps, cheeks flaring with indignant rage. "I ran away because...because I didn't want it to be all awkward when he woke up," he says desperately. "I've never done anything like that, ever. I felt...still feel...like the worlds worst person. I wouldn't know what to say, how to act. How do you tell a complete stranger that you're...never mind," he trails off, running a hand through his hair which has become wildly disheveled.

"So you ran all the way back to New York because you couldn't face speaking with the guy? You do realize that there's a pretty good chance he liked you, since he took you back to his room?"

"Yeah, where we both passed out," he bites.

"And he probably woke up this morning hoping for at least a blow job from the hot piece of ass he had picked up for just that purpose," she says, shaking her head as she stands. "I don't get you."

"I'm not like that!" Blaine cries. "And as for him liking me..." he pauses, something akin to pleasure stirring inside him at the very thought. "Well...that's irrelevant. I'm never gonna see him again, and one night like that...it would have been wrong."

"Whatever, weirdo," Santana says as she saunters towards the door. "I'll be in my room."

"I am not weird!" Blaine calls after her.

"You're an eighteen year old virgin."

"It's hard to find someone to fall in love with in Ohio!"

"Oh Blaine," Santana laughs, turning in the doorway to face him once more. "Who said anything about love? Besides, you're not in Ohio anymore. You had a guy hitting on you, flirting with you, practically begging you to fuck his brains out, taking you back to his room and you run away after a little making out."

"We didn't make out," Blaine whispers, immediately regretting the words once they're out of his mouth, but then making the whole thing even worse. "I never even kissed him."

"Okay, I'm gonna go, cause I just cannot believe what I'm hearing," she says, holding her hands up. "Just remember to change my water into wine when you're done being more pious than Jesus himself."

She storms out and he sits there wondering how on earth his actions- or lack of- have managed to offend his friend so much, but she is back a moment later, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing his cheek. "I'm not mad," she murmurs into his hair.

"Thank goodness," Blaine sighs, hugging her back. "I was worried."

"Why do I always need to reassure you of that?" she asks, pulling back to look at him. "We've been friends with each other since we were five. You know what I'm like."

"I do," he nods, then offers a sad smile. "But I always assume everyone's mad at me about something unless they confirm otherwise."

"Maybe you should stop thinking like that? You're a cutie, Blaine. You're a good guy with a good heart and an unreasonably pretty face. People like you, people want to get to know you- and some want to get to know you better than others."

But Blaine shakes his head, staring down at his comforter. "He's gone, Santana. I had a chance and I blew it in the most spectacular style. As I always do."

"There will be others," she says convincingly, lifting Blaine's chin with her finger when he shakes his head once more. "There will. C'mon. Don't be sad. Want me to go to the bakery on the corner and get us both a muffin?"

"Yes please," he says with a little pout that has Santana wondering if he's five instead of eighteen.

"Okay. Back in a few."

The front door slams and it is only then that Blaine lets out the breath he feels as if he's been holding since he woke in a Vegas hotel room all those hours ago. Taking the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, he stares down at it before blinking and rubbing his eyes hard, but the words remain the same. Printed across the top in bold it simply says:

Certificate of Marriage.

Between Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel.

"Oh," Blaine breathes, quite unable to form any kind of coherent thought. "Fuck."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N- thanks for the great response! I forgot to mention that this story also talks about Finn's passing, though it has already happened when this story takes place. As in canon, I make no assumptions of how he died, rather talk about how he lived. _

* * *

"So...how was he?" Rachel Berry asks excitedly, digging her best friend Kurt in the ribs.

"Rachel!" Kurt says under his breath. Looking around the cramped airplane he checks to see if anyone seems to be listening in, but they all seem too distracted and he leans closer to his friend to whisper. "He was... Incredibly sweet."

He thinks back to the events of the previous night- what precious little he can remember. The stranger had been persistent, yet not so determined as to be off putting. He had simply wanted to be in Kurt's company and not in his pants- as the lack of action that night had proved. The very thought- that it was Kurt's personality he found appealing rather than the possibility of a lay- thrilled Kurt more than he ever thought possible, and he had found himself enjoying a raucous, fun and exhilarating night in the young mans company. He knew that much. It had been a good time. He can remember laughing a lot, dancing and drinking. There's a vague recollection of a limo ride along the strip, and he knows they went back to his room together, but that's as far as it goes. Still, he's pretty sure he would have remembered if things had turned sour, so why had he woken up alone? That's the part he can't fathom, and if he's honest, that's the part that stings. No note, no number, no evidence that that guy had been there at all, except for the memory of his deep amber eyes and perfect smile. The sweet blush staining his cheeks when he had kissed the back of Kurt's hand, and how his heart had lurched in pleasure and surprise when they made and held eye contact. The feel of his body pressed close to Kurt's as they danced- wildly erotic and much more outlandish than Kurt would ever dream of being back home- makes desire flare in the pit of his stomach causing him to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

"But how was he at...y'know?" Rachel asks, embarrassed, yet wanting to know.

"We didn't...do anything," Kurt whispers back.

"Really?" Rachel asks in surprise. "Seriously? Nothing?"

Kurt blushes, fiddling with his coke can and casting his eyes downwards. "No. At least...there was no...ahem, evidence," he says, now positively glowing with embarrassment. "I was fully clothed when I woke, and the sheets were clean. I couldn't see any..."

"Yes, I know," Rachel says primly.

"In the trash and nothing hurt so...yeah. I don't think we did anything."

"You don't think!" Rachel hisses. "Honestly Kurt, how drunk were you? Oh my god! What if you were roofied?"

"Oh please," he scoffs. "I wasn't roofied. I may not know the guy, but I do know he wasn't the type to do that. I told you, he was sweet. A real gentleman."

"So what now?"

"Nothing," Kurt shrugs. "I don't know his name, his number, where he lives...nothing about him at all. When I woke up this morning he'd bailed."

"Aw, Kurt," Rachel says, patting his hand sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he sighs with a tight smile. "It really sucks."

"So uh...yeah...I just really need this annulled," Blaine tells the attorney. "Preferably before my parents find out. Or anyone, really."

"That shouldn't be a problem," she smiles across the desk at him. "You were both under the influence, you say you haven't consummated the marriage," she smirks, clearly not believing him, "and you hadn't met before. I'll draw the documents up for you both to sign."

"Uh..." Blaine starts nervously, fiddling with his bow tie. "Is it possible that...uh...I could sign the documents for both of us?"

"No," she laughs. "Your..._friend_...will need to sign for himself."

Blaine sighs, letting his head fall into his hands. "Oh crap."

"Care to explain?"

"I don't know anything about him," he whispers, bright red with shame. "We didn't exchange numbers or anything, I only know his name from the marriage certificate. I don't know where he lives or...or even if he's gay."

"Well his sexuality is irrelevant, but we can track him down. You gave addresses to the chapel clerk, yes?"

"I don't know," Blaine cries in desperation. "Did we? Oh god," he moans. "I can't believe this is happening. I'm a nice person, I'm not a rebel. I don't do things like this."

"You don't need me to point out that you already did," she says, feeling sorry for the young man in front of her who looks completely terrified. "But really, don't worry. Here," She types something and waits for her screen to bring up the relevant page. "I've already contacted the venue where you married and asked them to provide the info. It'll be with me by now- Vegas chapels are well used to such requests. Then all we have to do is mail him the papers and he can sign and return them- job done."

"Thank goodness," Blaine sighs in relief. "I was so worried. I thought I'd be..."

"Ah." The attorney chews her lip for a second, eyes flicking to Blaine. "We might have a problem."

"What?" Blaine shrieks. "What kind of a problem?"

"It seems that Mr. Hummel listed his address as your address, here in New York."

"My address?" he asks quietly. "How did he know my address?"

"I'm guessing you filled the form in for him?" she tries. "Whatever happened, you two are listed as sharing the same address, and it's yours."

Blaine sits in stunned silence for a moment, his mind desperately working overtime as he tries to figure out what the fuck he's supposed to do now. "Oh!" he says, suddenly brightening. "If he's given a false address, we can get it annulled on grounds of dishonesty, yes?"

"Yes," the attorney says slowly. "But you still need him to sign the forms."

"Fucking...fuck!" Blaine shouts loudly. "I'm sorry," he says hastily. "I didn't mean to curse like that. I'm a little stressed."

"I would be too, if I'd messed up like you have."

"Thanks." Blaine slides down low in his chair and looks to the ceiling as if hoping for some kind of divine intervention. "So what are my options?"

"Well... The state of Nevada can issue an annulment without the other party being present..." She holds her hand up to stop Blaine from interrupting. "But you have to be a resident there for at least six weeks before you can even apply."

"Fuck. I think my absence from class might be noticed. And my dad would definitely start to question my life choices."

"Other than that, there's not much left. Hire a private detective to try and locate him, or search about online. He might have a twitter or Facebook account and you can contact him that way?"

"I'll try that," he says, offering a weak smile. "Otherwise..."

"Otherwise you'll stay married to someone you'll never see again, until he tries to marry someone else and finds out he's unwittingly a bigamist...and then I'd say it's a pretty safe bet that he'd come looking for you."

Not knowing what else to do, Blaine retreats into a world of silence. He attends class but barely participates, he goes to his job in the music store two blocks away but opts to stay out the back wherever possible, and he resolutely, steadfastly avoids his roommate at all costs. She notices, of course, and takes to standing outside the shop until his shift finishes and he's forced to walk home with her, or she creeps into his room in the early hours, scaring the life out of him when he wakes.

"Just tell me what it is," Santana says desperately.

It has been four weeks since their return from Vegas, and Blaine is still no closer to figuring out what on earth he should do. He's trawled the internet for hours, having thought that the name Kurt Hummel must be fairly unique- but apparently not. Facebook had thrown up hundreds of answers- mainly all European based apart from one guy in the US whose profile picture was of a man with the biggest, busiest beard that Blaine had ever seen. Twitter had suggested various porn stars, and he had ended up wasting hours on tumblr looking at cats, but still didn't find his mystery husband.

"Will you quit?" he snaps at his friend, rolling over and burying his head under the pillow. "It's five thirty."

"Yeah, and I can't sleep because your attitude is bugging the shit out of me," she says, climbing under the covers much to his annoyance. "You've not been right since we returned from Vegas."

"I've been fine," comes the muffled response.

"No, you haven't. Now just tell me. You're not still feeling bad about your mystery man, are you?"

Blaine hesitates under the pillow, biting his lip to keep from blurting it all out. There is the potential, of course, that Santana could help him with this. That she could throw up ideas or possibilities that Blaine hasn't thought of so far...

But there's also the possibility that she will laugh for hours, tell her girlfriend and everyone they've ever known, post it on every social media site known to man and then torture him about it until the end of time.

Blaine thinks it would be the latter.

And if his parents found out... Well. That possibility doesn't quite bear thinking about. He likes the dynamic of their relationship now. He has a credit card and a monthly allowance and in return he keeps himself to himself and stays in New York- out of sight. The source of eternal disappointment, he really doesn't want to bring yet more shame on the family by admitting he accidentally got married and now seems unable to locate his husband.

So Blaine emerges from the pillow, forcing a smile on his face and making his voice sound perfectly cheerful when he tells her "No, I don't feel bad. It is what it is. Que Sera Sera and all that. Now please leave me to sleep. I don't have work until eleven."

"Fine," she huffs, marching toward the door. "But don't forget tonight."

"Tonight? What's tonight?"

"Dani's birthday, remember? We're going out."

Blaine groans, staring up at the ceiling. "Santana, I really don't want to."

"Tough shit. We're meeting at Carlos at eight."

Really, Blaine doesn't mind going out, he supposes as he walks to work in the bright sunshine of early summer. He doesn't have many close friends- in fact it's pretty much limited to Santana- but he does have a small group of people he enjoys spending time with. There's the guys from work, for a start- Paul, Alex and Sam. He gets along well with them and they all enjoy working in the quirky music store which sells old vinyl records and rare albums along with sheet music to just about every song ever written. Then there's a few people from college, with whom he has a lot of shared interests and has spent many afternoons with, sitting in coffee shops and putting the world to rights. Santana's friends too; they seem to like him and invite him along whenever they head to a bar like they're doing tonight.

No, he's not lonely. He's just...not socially forthcoming. He thinks that's the best way to describe it. Painfully shy since childhood, his attachment to Santana came because she would happily answer for him and make decisions on his behalf. They were separated in second grade- the principal of Elmhurst Elementary said that their relationship was detrimental to Blaine's confidence, and that he must learn to voice his own opinions and make friends by himself. After six weeks of screaming tantrums every morning, feigning of illness and even running away once, his parents gave in and went to the school, asking for him to be moved back into Santana's class.

As they both got older he had improved slightly, mainly thanks to his friend. Always smart, she had learned early on that if you didn't ask Blaine direct questions in a conversation, he would simply sit on the sidelines. So she targeted him, asking him his opinion on a subject when others were present, knowing full well he was far too polite not to answer with everyone looking on, and gradually he began to make friends.

They stayed best friends even when they both went to different high schools- of course there really was no way she could join him at Dalton All Boys Academy. He thought he would sink, and he knew everyone was standing by, waiting for the inevitable failure and his begging to be allowed home. But to everyone's surprise- not least his own- he had thrived. Initially he had only boarded during the week, but when he entered into his sophomore year he had asked if he could stay weekends too. His parents had readily agreed, and bought him a car so he could still get home whenever he wanted. He didn't really use it for that though, he used it to drive to the less salubrious area of Lima, Ohio every weekend to spend time with Santana instead as they both struggled to come to terms with their sexuality and being gay in a less than accepting society.

He was safe at Dalton though. He joined their show choir- The Warblers- and found that singing and dancing were one of his favorite ways to while away the time. Santana had been astounded, and teased him endlessly, telling him he couldn't be more of a stereotypical gay, but eventually she had reassured him that she actually thought him really rather brave and was incredibly proud. Shortly after, she joined the show choir at her own school- Brookside High- and finally found her own happiness with her first girlfriend.

That part never happened for Blaine. He had crushes, sure. He was also pretty sure a guy named Sebastian liked him during their senior year. But he certainly didn't like him back, and even if he had, he would have been far too shy to do anything about it. He moved to New York almost immediately after graduation; found a tiny two bedroom apartment and waited for the inevitable knock which came two weeks later. Santana had arrived, and simply announced she now lived there too. That was that. He had paid her rent for a while, working two jobs until college started and he gladly quit the supermarket and stayed with the music store. Santana found a job at the spotlight diner as a singing waitress, which still allowed her the opportunity to sing and dance and be in the limelight as well as leading her to Dani, a sweet girl who made Santana smile like Blaine had never seen.

And Blaine found himself happy with his life, settled. But even so, he would never be so bold as to call any of his friends up and ask if they fancied going to the movies, or to get pizza. They could say no, for a start, and then he'd be embarrassed. Or worse, they could accept and then spend the evening being bored by his company, and then he'd lose all his friends once they realized how dull he actually was. So he just waited until either Santana dragged him out- like tonight- or someone had a birthday and he was included in a group invite. The rest of the time he spent at home, reading, playing their old beat up piano, or- more recently- trying to track down the elusive Kurt Hummel.

He resolves not to dwell on the fact that he is- technically- a married man, and to focus on his work and the impending night out instead and to his surprise, it's actually quite easy to do. He forces himself to work the register that day, meaning he's busy trying to make small talk with customers- an act which he finds excruciating but infinitely more preferable to wallowing. He walks home with Alex and Paul after his shift, and rushes upstairs to take a quick shower and change before heading back out the door, eating a bagel on his way.

He should have eaten more, he realizes when the bar starts spinning that night after only two beers. Despite his excesses in Vegas, he's only a very moderate drinker at best. The occasional bottle of wine shared with Santana and Dani maybe, or a couple of beers after work with the guys, but that's about it. He still finds it miraculous that the Vegas trip didn't hospitalize him. He ended up with a husband instead though, and he's not sure which one is worse.

"No bow tie?" Santana asks him, taking in his tight polo shirt and jeans.

"Not today," he says shyly. "I'm not really in the mood."

"We're going to Pyramid!" Dani calls across the table to him. He smiles and nods tightly, turning to Santana.

"I don't really..."

"Don't!" she screeches loudly. "You're coming whether you like it or not. They've got a seventies night on. Your kind of music."

"But it's a gay club," he moans.

"You're gay!" Santana laughs.

"I know, but I..." he trails off, aware of Dani's eyes on him as well as the entire table of her work friends. "Okay," he says quietly. "Sure."

If there is one thing Blaine hates, it's nightclubs. Especially gay ones. The music is loud, there's no conversation, just endless dancing which he never feels quite comfortable doing without a partner unless it's a well practised choreographed routine, and if it's a gay club he feels as if all eyes are on him- the eighteen year old, never been kissed virgin who sticks out like a sore thumb. He heads for the bar right away, figuring the best option will be to down a couple more beers before he's dragged to the dance floor by a drunken Dani and Santana.

"Beer please," Blaine calls, then forgets all about his order completely.

"Vegas boy!"

"Aaaahhhhh!"

Blaine is not usually a screamer, but scream he does, in sheer terror at finally coming face to face with his...well, he can't quite bring himself to think any further than that when Kurt raises an eyebrow at him and calmly sets his empty glass down on the bar.

"Well. Not quite the greeting I'm used to, but we'll go with it," he says, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You owe me an explanation."

"I do," Blaine nods, tugging at his shirt collar which suddenly seems unbearably tight. "Uh..."

"Is that it?" Kurt asks. "You ran out on me."

"I know, um...sorry about that," Blaine says, bright red and staring at the floor. "I didn't know what else to do."

"I was looking forward to getting to know you a little better, if you know what I mean," Kurt says seductively, sliding from his stool and stepping closer, which makes Blaine immediately step on the toes of the lady behind him.

"Sorry, sorry," he says to each of them in turn. "I didn't know what else to do," he implores.

"You've said that."

"Oh. Well. I didn't," he says weakly. "I've never been in that situation before and...I wasn't really sure of the etiquette."

"You've never been in what situation?" Kurt asks slowly.

"I've never...ahem...slept with someone...in the same bed, I mean." He is blushing furiously, he knows, and is far too intimidated to even make eye contact.

"Oh."

"Have you?"

"Yeah," Kurt laughs, "lots of times."

"Oh." Blaine stares and stares at the floor.

"But never with another guy."

"Oh?" Blaine looks up sharply and wishes he hadn't because holy shit, he is suddenly face to face with beauty personified. He simply cannot stop staring, though he's pretty sure Kurt will be expecting him to talk again at some point, but...but...but he's all angular. Sharp features which are softened by twinkling blue eyes and a small beguiling smile on perfectly red lips which Blaine desperately wants to feel on his own. Kurt is dressed entirely in black- jeans, boots and shirt, with a white and gray scarf that seems to set everything off perfectly.

And then a sudden moment of complete lunacy invades Blaine's head where he mentally congratulates himself for marrying that.

Fuck.

"You're not gay?"

"I'm gay," Kurt says evenly. "But the only person who's ever shared my bed has been my roommate, Rachel. We've had quite a lot of sleepovers."

"I see."

"So... Vegas."

"Hmm?" Blaine hopes he sounds nonchalant, but he's pretty sure he just comes over as a frightened mouse.

"Quite the night, huh?"

"I'm not sure," Blaine says, willing himself to speak up. "I don't remember much but..."

"Neither do I," Kurt admits with a laugh. "I know we danced, and I have some vague recollection of a limo?"

"Me too!" Blaine laughs. "But I don't know what we were doing. All I know is that when we woke up..."

"You regretted everything," Kurt finishes for him.

"No! Not at all. I only regret running out on you like that. I've been trying to find you..."

"You have?" Kurt smiles broadly, and Blaine can feel his heart start to race with a longing to kiss this striking young man in front of him.

"I have," he nods, and swallows hard. "Uh...Kurt..."

"You remembered my name?" Kurt positively beams at this, and reaches out to touch him lightly on the arm, his features softening.

Blaine wants to say no, that he's only learned it through staring at their marriage certificate at least twenty seven times a day...but he doesn't quite know how. Instead, all he can come up with is "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No," Kurt says firmly, backing up hastily when Blaine's face falls. "I mean...you can...yes. I'd like that. But...maybe coffee? There's an all night diner a block over."

"Yeah," Blaine breathes with a smile, figuring they can talk everything over in quieter surroundings. "Yeah, that'd be good. Let's go."

"I'm really sorry, but I don't even remember your name," Kurt says as they walk along.

"Oh. Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"So, Blaine Anderson," Kurt says, flirting as best he can and really, really liking the way his name sounds. "Do you live in the city?"

"Yeah. Uh...I'm in college. Freshman."

"Really? Me too," Kurt smiles. "College that is. Second year. So...you're eighteen?"

Blaine nods.

"I see. I'm nineteen."

"Right," Blaine says politely, wondering why all his conversation skills have deserted him, then remembering he didn't have any to start with.

Married.

He must tell Kurt they're married.

"You have really pretty eyes," Kurt says, smiling as the neon sign from the diner flashes above their heads, highlighting him in alternate shades of blue and pink. "Um..."

"Thank you," Blaine says sincerely, saving the poor man any blushes as he holds open the door for him to step inside. He has time to asses the situation while they look over the menu- or pretend to, anyway- as Blaine can tell Kurt is studying him too. If Kurt had been a jerk, Blaine could have quite easily told him about the accidental wedding and demanded he signs the papers. Well...it wouldn't have been all that easy, but it would have been easier than the situation he now finds himself in. Kurt is wonderful, and Blaine can see exactly why he was attracted to him instantly in his drunken state a month ago. Not only is he incredibly striking and beautiful- which instantly reduces Blaine's capacity to think straight by at least fifty per cent- he is sweet with it. Funny, warm and shy...and though Blaine knows there's no way he's as inexperienced as he is, Kurt is wonderfully perfect and Blaine is crushing heavily...on his own husband.

The biggest problem his clouded judgement is trying to deal with right now, is whether to be entirely selfish and see where this night takes them- resolving to tell Kurt tomorrow- or whether to come clean immediately and say goodbye to his first chance of ever getting a real kiss, much less anything else.

"Can I just say," Blaine says, voice squeaking slightly with nerves. "You're incredibly beautiful."

He chooses the first option.

Snapping his menu shut, a pink glow high on his cheeks, Kurt shakes his head and looks down. "Wow."

"Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have..."

"You should have," Kurt says, looking up at him. "Yeah. Um..."

"Maybe it's not the done thing, to tell a guy he's beautiful," Blaine worries.

"No, it's not," Kurt tells him honestly. "Which is why it's quite simply the best compliment I've ever received."

"Oh," he smiles shyly, pleasure bubbling up inside at finally having done something right. He's made Kurt happy and oh, what a wonderful feeling that is.

"Would you like to...maybe...get coffee at my place instead?" Kurt asks, and Blaine is pretty sure he can see him trying to swallow his nerves, and his thoughts are only confounded when Kurt makes to bite at his nails before sitting sharply on his hands.

"Yeah," Blaine breathes, now completely captured and entranced by the striking young man and unable to believe his luck. "Yeah, I'd really...that'd be good. Yeah. Thank you."

"Welcome," Kurt smiles shyly, sliding back out of the booth and waiting for Blaine to join him. "It's uh...it's not far," he says, as they step outside. "Um...I should probably apologize for disrupting your evenings plans," he smiles, but Blaine is quick to reassure.

"Really, it's a welcome disruption. Honestly. I was out for a friend's birthday, but I doubt I'll be missed," he says, thinking of Dani and Santana who are probably too busy dancing to notice his absence. "Clubs and bars aren't really my scene," he adds with a shy laugh. "Which is crazy since we've only met twice and twice it's been in some kind of establishment serving alcohol...but...yeah. Not really my thing at all."

"Nor mine," Kurt smiles back, and then his eyes widen as he remembers. "Oh shit! Rachel!"

"Your roommate?"

"Yeah," he sighs, stopping on the sidewalk and looking back in the direction of the club, antagonizing over whether to return. "I was supposed to be meeting her there. She wanted to dance among non-threatening gays," he explains. "She's not in a great place and she didn't want to be hit on, just wanted to lose herself in music for a while. Fuck."

"Oh." Blaine tries not to let his disappointment show as he scuffs his shoe against the sidewalk and bites his lip. "Well...we can go back."

"Yeah," Kurt mutters, then turns to look at him. "Actually, no. You know what? She'll be okay. I'll send her a text. Of course, there's the possibility she might come home once she realizes I'm a no show, but we can go to my room, right?"

"Erm..." Blaine squeaks. "Right. I guess. Yeah."

"Okay." Firing off a quick text, he then pockets his phone and looks at Blaine with a bright smile. "Let's go...get coffee."

They walk along in silence, Blaine opening his mouth several times to say something that really should start with "You know, when we were in Vegas..." but he loses his nerve each time because really, how do you approach such a subject? There's no helpful tips on Google...he's already looked. And anyway, even if there was, Kurt's company is so completely engaging he knows he'd forget entirely what it is he's trying to say and fluff his words horribly. He'll wait until the novelty of a good looking guy paying him attention has worn off a little, and then he'll tell him.

Maybe.

Kurt lets them into a small building and leads him up a narrow staircase. He unlocks the door and motions for Blaine to go ahead, speaking quietly from behind. "It's uh...it's not great, I guess. But it's home."

"It's lovely," Blaine smiles, blushes, stares at the floor then tries again. "I mean...great. Yeah."

Kurt's apartment is homey, comforting and cosy. Two large inviting couches fill the living room along with a table and chairs and a massive bookcase which is rammed full. Three doors lead off the room, bedrooms and a bathroom, Blaine supposes, and an arch leads to the small kitchen, into which Blaine follows Kurt who is now rummaging in the fridge.

"I don't know if you're hungry," he says, but he's muffled so Blaine steps closer. "I made brownies earlier, or there's leftover pie if you...Oh!" He stands and turns, coming face to face and chest to chest with Blaine who is directly on his heels.

"Sorry!" he cries, completely mortified. "Sorry. Too close. Yeah. Sorry. I just couldn't hear very well and I... Sorry," he says again, quietly, but Kurt notices he hasn't moved.

Sighing, he gently guides Blaine backward, making him jump like a startled rabbit. Closing the fridge, he sets the pie on the counter and turns back, taking Blaine's hands in his and smiling at the perfect feel of their fingers together. "Look. I'm just gonna say this to save there being any more awkwardness. I like you, Blaine. A lot."

The silence sounds deafening to both of them as Kurt worries he's seriously scared him off and Blaine tries to think of something...anything to say, but it is Kurt that beats him to it.

"Okay," he says, letting go of Blaine's hands and laughing nervously. "That actually just made things a whole lot worse. Um..."

Blaine knows it's over to him now, but he still can't find any words, so he does the only thing he can do, the only thing he wants to do. He leans in and kisses him.

It's not much- a barely there touch of the lips- but it has Kurt pulling back with wide eyes, staring at Blaine in stunned amazement before he lets his whole face light up with an enormous grin.

Blaine grins back, completely abashed yet elated and he rubs the back of his neck shyly. "I um...I..." he stammers before deciding to quieten his mouth by kissing Kurt again. There's more pressure this time, and his eyes flutter closed as he brings one shaking hand up to Kurt's waist, who backs up against the counter, breaking the kiss again to stare at him.

"So you like me too?"

Nodding, and spurred on by Kurt's obvious enjoyment, Blaine leans in again, cupping Kurt's cheek with his palm and sliding his fingers into his soft hair. And oh, suddenly Kurt is kissing back, his arms going around Blaine's waist and pulling the bottom half of his body closer as their mouths move together.

Blaine is pretty sure the whole of New York State is able to hear his hammering heart right now, but he really couldn't care less when Kurt opens his mouth a little wider and Blaine dares to run his tongue along his soft lips. It's all he can do not to cheer loudly when Kurt moans, but he settles for congratulating himself on being able to kiss another man and not fuck it up entirely.

"Oh my..." Kurt says when they finally break. His chest is heaving, his cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling, and it thrills Blaine intensely to know that he's done that. "Um...do you want to...um...heh." It becomes Kurt's turn to rub the back of his neck as he tries to figure out what it is he's trying to ask, but eventually he looks up again. "Did you want to move this to the couch?" he asks, then thumps his forehead. "That sounded truly terrible. I'm sorry. I'm not some kind of lothario trying to get into your pants," he smiles. "I just..."

"Yes."

"Oh."

Kurt shuts up and taking Blaine's hand, leads him into the living room, turning the main light off and just leaving a small side lamp on. "You okay?" he asks, gently guiding Blaine to sit next to him, as if fearful he might break.

"I'm better than okay," he answers honestly. "I really like you too, Kurt," he says, resting one hand on his knee. "Uh..."

"You don't need to say anything else," Kurt grins, playing with Blaine's fingers. "We can just..."

"Make out?" Blaine asks hopefully, which makes Kurt laugh loudly.

"Exactly."

And this time Kurt directs the kiss. Much bolder than Blaine, he guides the startled boy back into the corner of the couch, kissing him passionately and running one hand around to the back of his neck, fingers touching a mixture of sticky gel and soft curls. Blaine releases a soft, stuttered moan at the feel of Kurt's tongue in his mouth and responds eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly but Kurt doesn't seem to mind given the way in which he presses closer to him and...

"Ahh!" Blaine says, breaking the kiss and bringing his knee up between their bodies.

"Something the matter?" Kurt asks, pulling back to look at him, eyes dark with lust.

"Uh..." Blaine wills himself to man up. He's eighteen, for goodness sake. "That was unexpected, that's all," he says as lightly as he can.

"Oh. Well...you kind of have that effect on me," Kurt smiles. "You're really hot."

"Oh please," Blaine scoffs. "I'm not hot."

"Blaine, shut up. You're kissing me like I've never been kissed before and you're freaking beautiful. I'm telling you, it all adds up to one hot package."

"Oh," Blaine says softly, lowering his knee and in a daring move-for him- he opens his legs wider to allow him to slot between them. "Then by all means carry on pressing yourself against me," he says, making Kurt laugh. "I really quite enjoyed it."

Kurt moves close once more, mouth inches from Blaine's and his breath hot on his face. "I can tell," he whispers, and then they're kissing once again.

Blaine isn't entirely sure how he ends up lying on his back with Kurt on top of him, but all he does know is that when Kurt's lips leave his to trail down to his neck, and he then grinds his rock hard erection against him for good measure, he throws his head back and lets out a noise that he could never in his wildest dreams imagine making with anyone. Ever.

"Kuuurt," he moans, bucking up beneath him, desperate to feel the friction over his cock once more. "Oh my god, Kurt. Oh my _god_!"

"Hot," Kurt murmurs, head buried into the crook of Blaine's neck as he worries the flesh with his teeth. "So hot."

He keeps a steady rhythm of grinding and pushing, with Blaine desperately finding his lips again and gasping out between them. "Kurt...ahhh," but then his mouth is full of Kurt's tongue once more and to his utter shame, he feels his orgasm tearing through him like a freight train as Kurt clutches him tight and continues to rub against him until he breaks the kiss and Kurt pulls back to look at him, panting hard.

"Um..."

Blaine stares down at their torsos, pressed tightly together and flushes with embarrassment. "Kurt...I'm..."

"Are you okay? Happy?"

"Yes I'm happy," he says, laughing in disbelief.

"Good. That's all that matters," Kurt tells him, kissing his cheek before rolling away and standing. "I'm just gonna use the bathroom. Two minutes."

Blaine throws a despairing arm across his eyes the second the door is closed, groaning at the unpleasant stickiness in his underwear. "You jerk, Anderson," he says out loud, giving himself a stark reminder of middle school bullies. "You couldn't even make it last." He sits, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries to imagine what Kurt must be thinking right now. Wishing he didn't have to come out the bathroom and face him, probably, he thinks to himself. In fact, Kurt is probably in there right this second trying to work out how to politely ask him to leave. Deciding to save him the bother, Blaine slips his shoes on quietly, picks up his jacket and goes, closing the door softly behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Blaine," Dani grins over her bowl of cereal when he arrives in the kitchen.

"Good morning Dani," a completely disheveled Blaine returns politely, rubbing a weary hand over his face as he sits down at the table.

"Blaaaaaine," Santana sing-songs from where she stands at the stove.

"What?" he snaps, casting his eyes downward, focusing on his cereal and not daring to look anyone in the eye.

"You got lucky," she continues in that ridiculous voice, making Blaine even more irritated.

"I did not," he grouches.

"Yes you did!" Dani laughs. "We all saw you leave with that guy. Santana says he's the one you met in Vegas, yes?"

"Yes he is, but nothing happened."

"Bullshit," Santana says, ruffling his hair as she passes which makes him flinch. "You might not want to spill any details, but the enormous hickey on your neck tells us all we need to know."

Dani laughs, high fiving her girlfriend before reaching across to take his hand. "First time?"

"Oh...just...fuck off!" Blaine explodes, standing and taking his bowl. "Leave me alone, okay? It's none of your business." And he storms into his room and slams the door, leaving two utterly astounded women in his wake.

"Hey...Kurt?" Rachel asks with a timid tap on his door. "You want any breakfast?"

"No."

"Okay," she snaps, the sweet and caring side vanishing instantly. "You want to get out here and explain to me why you stood me up and left me alone in a nightclub?"

"Uh..." The door is pulled open and Kurt kisses her cheek in an approximation of an apology. "Sorry about that," he says, pulling on a robe over his pajama pants and walking into the kitchen. "Yeah...I'll make us breakfast."

"It won't work, you know!" she calls after him, hot on his heels.

"What won't?"

"Trying to keep me sweet so I'll vacate the apartment for you to get your mack on again. I live here too, you know." She pouts in the doorway, watching him as he assembles ingredients for omelettes.

"That's not what I'm trying to do," he answers honestly. "I really do feel bad. It wasn't cool. And given all that's happened since, it wasn't worth it, either."

"Vegas boy? You sounded elated in your text. In fact, you told me you'd appreciate it if I stayed out for at least two hours. So what happened? He didn't stay?"

"He bailed. Again."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," Kurt mutters, his anger at the events of the previous night surfacing once more as he stirs the eggs in the pan. "Ouch is right. Damn it," he hisses, narrowly avoiding a burn to his hand through lack of concentration.

"Careful. So I'm curious what happened, because I was only fifteen minutes late. Did you just hook up right away?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he sighs. "I saw him at the bar and we got talking. Actually, I got talking and he just apologized repeatedly for running out on me in Vegas. Anyway, he is painfully shy, that much is evident, but he managed to ask if he could buy me a drink, and I suggested coffee. We went to a diner and...and he told me I was beautiful."

"He what?!" Rachel shrieks, choking on her coffee. "Does he think he's in a nineteen fifties romance movie?"

"Shut up," Kurt snaps, handing her a plate. "If someone said that to you, you'd preen for hours."

"But you're a guy!"

"I'm a guy who likes romance, who appreciates when someone goes out on a limb and says something so incredibly heartfelt. You've probably been called beautiful all your life, Rachel. Girls hear it all the time, but guys don't. They just don't. Do you know how long I've longed for something like that? Huh? I didn't just swoon, Rach, I nearly cried with joy, right there in front of him."

"But you slept with him instead."

"No! We didn't...no. No sex. We decided to come back here instead, and he was super nervous. I told him outright that I liked him and he looked like he was about to faint. But he kissed me."

"_He_ kissed _you_?"

"Yeah." Kurt allows himself a small smile as he sets the pan to one side and they take their plates into the living room. "Yeah he did," he says quietly, purposely sitting in Blaine's spot from the night before. "And I know how much courage that must've taken him, Rach. God knows I was terrified too. But now...now...I'm fucking pissed off."

"I can tell, because you're cursing."

"Well I think I've very right to curse!" Kurt exclaims. "I really like him, Rachel. He's...endearingly sweet, polite, shy, well mannered...and ridiculously hot with it. I mean, how often do you find that combination, huh?"

"But he's also bailed on you. Twice," she points out.

"I know that."

"So what happened? You were making out and he ran away?"

"Yeah...but it was...heavy. Like...hot, heavy. Stupidly hot," he says, allowing himself to remember. "And I...well...I went to use the bathroom and when I came back, he'd gone. And I still have no number for him, no way of contacting him...nothing. But even more frustratingly, I know he's here somewhere, in the city!"

"Is he in college?"

"Yes, but I don't know which one. Ugh!" He pushes his plate onto the coffee table and holds his head in his hands. "It's all shit."

"One of those things, I guess," Rachel says, patting his hand. "Put it down to a lesson learned."

"I've never felt like this about anyone, Rach."

"Oh please," she scoffs, standing and looking down at him. "You've met twice. Both times in crowded bars where conversation is impossible. He was in the apartment for less than an hour. You've no idea how to feel about him, because you have no idea what he's actually like."

"Fuck you," Kurt mutters under his breath as she strides toward her bedroom.

"You'll just have to hang out at pyramid until he shows up again," she calls over her shoulder before closing her door.

*  
From: Dad  
Subject: Credit Card  
Blaine,  
The monthly credit card statement has arrived. As you know, when you first went to college, your mother and I agreed to pay your rent and give you a monthly allowance of $2000. Out of this you are expected to purchase your own food, toiletries, gas etc. You were also given a credit card to use for any unexpected bills on the car, metro travel and any real emergencies.  
I do not know what you were doing in Vegas, in fact I don't think I'm even going to ask. But spending $3000 in ONE NIGHT on alcohol does not, I repeat, NOT classify as an emergency. Neither does spending $1460 on two flights back to New York. Did you not book returns? If you insist on leading such a hedonistic lifestyle, fine. But your mom and I have no wish to hear about it, much less fund it.  
On this ONE OCCASION, I will pay for the flights, but your monthly allowance will be reduced to $1500 for the next six months until the bar bill is repaid in full. Rest assured, Blaine, I will be monitoring your spending very closely in future, and I will not hesitate to remove your credit card completely if you cannot exercise maturity and restraint in it's use.  
I find myself disappointed.  
Dad.  
*

_Dear Dad_, Blaine types back furiously,  
_So sorry for the reckless spending. What happened was this. Santana and I decided to forgo Christmas presents to each other last year, and instead book a weekend away somewhere fun. We chose Vegas and figured Easter break would be a good time to go. Yes, we did book return flights.  
We spent all day Saturday drinking heavily and gambling, (just be thankful I didn't use the credit card for that) with the result that by early evening I was in a state of inebriation the like of which I've never been in before. Apparently, I was quite taken with a guy, with whom I proceeded to dance errotically before leaving the bar and heading god knows where. We hired a limo (again, be grateful the credit card didn't make an appearance) and it would appear- although neither of us have any recollection of this- went to a wedding chapel and got married.  
Dad, you of all people should understand that such an occasion calls for a celebration, so in my drunken wisdom, I used the card to purchase vast quantities of alcohol which the random stranger and I proceeded to drink in his hotel room, where I spent the night.  
I panicked somewhat the next day, and told Santana we needed to leave immediately- hence the flights. Oh, I should also mention that I didn't wake the stranger and tell him we were married. I went to visit an attorney on our return to learn that I can get the marriage annulled... except Kurt (the stranger) didn't give his address and I have no way of contacting him.  
It gets better though, dad. Because I was in a gay club last night, and there he was. My husband. The reunion was...sexy. I got my first kiss, which was just as awesome as I always dreamed it would be, and he got me off by grinding against me on his couch- only I came embarrassingly quickly (is that hereditary, I wonder?) and Kurt rolled off me and went to the bathroom. Because I have zero confidence or faith in myself (and isn't that just a whole other story) I left. Yes, that's right, I ran out on my husband, twice. I should probably add that I still haven't told him we're married. So that's me, your son. Married in Vegas to a complete stranger who has no clue about it, who is handsome, sexy and all kinds of beautiful and reduces me to a quivering wreck, and who is right now probably cursing my very existence.  
I wonder, is it acceptable to use the credit card to purchase a shotgun to blow my brains out?_

_Your son,  
Blaine._

And then he deletes the lot.

Pushing the laptop to one side, he curls back under the covers and blinks rapidly, determined not to allow any tears of self pity as he tries to figure out what the hell to do. He needs to go back to Kurt, he knows. But not today. Not now.

Tomorrow, maybe, Oh, but then he has class all day followed by work. He has class all day Tuesday, too. Wednesday then. Except he usually plays squash with Sam on a Wednesday, and though there's never too much in the way of conversation, it's still an enjoyable evening and the only time he actually spends one on one with an adult who is not Santana. Unless you count last night.

Thursday then. Yes. Thursday he will walk to Kurt's apartment right from school and tell him everything.

Santana doesn't even bother knocking- she very rarely does- just marches into his room, moves the laptop and climbs into bed alongside him. "Dani has a gig on Thursday. Wanna come?"

"Yes please," he says quickly, surprising her with his ready acceptance.

"Cool," she smiles. "We'll have fun. You know Blaine...we were only teasing this morning."

"I know that," he nods. "But I just...it's incredibly complicated and I made a total fool of myself. I really didn't want reminding of anything."

"Tell me."

But he can't. Not all of it, anyway. As tempting as it may be, he really owes it to Kurt to tell him the situation before anyone else.

"Look, it's obvious something went on. You kissed, at least. Am I right?"

"Yeah," Blaine says softly, allowing himself a small smile. "Yeah we did."

"And?"

"And he's wonderful," he gushes, figuring that if he can't tell her about the marriage he may as well talk through last night at least. "Santana...he's funny, kind...patient- we all know how dumb I am at talking to anyone- and he didn't seem to mind. I got carried away and told him he was beautiful and he said...oh my god I still can't believe it...he said it was the best compliment he'd ever received!"

"Because it probably was, you silly fool!" she laughs, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Don't do yourself down. You know- this isn't the same thing at all, but when you tell me I look pretty that day, or you tell me you love me, or hug me...it means a lot. Because it's you. And your compliments are always so heartfelt and genuine, it's no wonder he felt that way. He obviously likes you, Blaine. He looked so pleased to see you."

"He took me to his place," he whispers with a shy grin.

"Ha! I knew it! So that V card is ripped into a million tiny pieces, huh?"

"No!" he cries, horrified. "No. I would never have gone all the way like that...no." Folding his arms, Blaine sits primly on the bed, a blush staining his cheeks.

"But?"

"But...oh god, this is mortifying."

"As mortifying as that time I sent you out to buy tampons?"

"Don't ever remind me," he groans, but the memory does make him laugh. "We got into a bit of a compromising position." Shaking his head in embarrassment, he lowers his voice to almost a whisper. "And he was...pressing against me. It felt so good...so damn good and I just...I just couldn't hold off any longer."

"Blaine?" Touching his arm gently, Santana scoots closer in the bed to tuck a stray curl behind his ear. "That's kind of the point of getting into these compromising positions."

"I know but...but I was so quick. We had all our clothes on and all he'd done was give me a hickey. But he was so..."

"He was the same?"

"No. I mean, he was...hard, y'know. I mean, that's what got me off more than anything, because he claimed I was hot and had made him like that but he was obviously lying. And then I just...and he stopped and went to the bathroom. So I left."

"Okay," Santana says, throwing her hands up in the air. "I just cannot believe you right now. Would you just listen to all you're saying? Blaine, this guy took you home, made out with you, gave you a hickey and grinded with you. What part of that do you think he was making up? Of course he finds you hot. You are hot! Why is it so hard to believe that he could like you and want to date you?"

"Because," he says, taking a deep, trembling breath. "Because the only person I think actually likes me for who I am, is you."

"Oh Blaine." Pulling him into her arms, she rubs his back soothingly as she tries not to cry for this insecure, vulnerable man in front of her. "That's not true."

"It is true," he says, pulling back and nodding vehemently at the bedspread. "The guys from work, or college...they're all okay...I quite like them. But they only see me on the sidelines. None of them bother to get to know me- the real me. And my parents. They like the polite, well-mannered respectable Blaine. The one who meekly sits in the front row at church and never dares step out of line. If they knew what really goes on in here," he says, pointing to his head, "or here," and he points to his heart. "They'd be shocked."

"Okay. You seem intent on holding your own pity party right now, so it's time for a few home truths." Santana sits up straight, taking his hands and forcing him into uncomfortable eye contact. "Firstly, your parents are not nearly as bad as you make out. Strict, yes. Christian, totally. Understanding ...no. But how can they be when you haven't even come out to them? You just assume they'll hate the idea, and they just assume you're some kind of introvert who has no social skills whatsoever. I'm not denying they can be tough. They have very high expectations of you and your brother, and they have quite narrow minded views about how you should behave and who you should socialize with. But equally, they've allowed you time to grow. They put up no resistance when you wanted to board at Dalton. They let it be known they weren't thrilled, but instead of giving you an outright no, they bought you a car so you could get home easily. It was you who decided not to visit. And moving here, Blaine, they pay your rent, they give you an allowance, a credit card... I know you think they're too controlling, but you can't have it both ways. You're comfortable thanks to their cash, while I'm disowned and having to work to live, with no hope of ever being able to get through college."

"Yes but..."

"I haven't finished," she snaps, making him shut his mouth quickly. "I'm not even going to have the whole 'you need to come out to them' discussion again, because that's been raging between us for three years now, and every time it's raised we end up fighting. As for guys at work and college... Blaine, has it ever occurred to you that maybe it's not that they don't want to get to know you, but that you won't let them in? I didn't give you a choice. I forced myself upon you because you had curly hair and a sparkly purple crayon. And I just latched on and wouldn't let go. But I see you with Dani. Four months we've been together, and yet whenever she's here and you find yourself alone with her, you run in here and hide. She likes you- what little of you she sees. She liked the spunky side you showed this morning, and she likes how polite you always are. But you're more than manners, bow ties and hair gel, Blaine. You're funny, smart, witty...these people would love to see that side of you. When we were in Vegas and you were wasted, I saw a side of you I'd never, ever seen in all our thirteen years of friendship. I saw a wild and free Blaine who didn't give a flying fuck about decorum or tact. You got on that dance floor with Kurt and I was so shocked, but also, so happy...because you looked happy. You looked alive. You know, we will always be best friends, Blaine. But I can't be by your side forever. It occurs to me that at some point you need to start letting people in...and I think you should start with Kurt."

"He was my first kiss," he admits quietly.

Santana squeezes his hand reassuringly. "I thought as much. And it meant everything to you, didn't it?"

"Yeah," he admits, nodding slightly. "It was perfect."

"Find him, Blaine," she urges gently. "Find him and ask him out. You might be pleasantly surprised."

*  
It takes eleven days, but finally, one Thursday after work, Blaine forces himself to go find Kurt once more. He has a plan now, and while it may not be perfect, it's a start. He figures he'll ask him for coffee- although this fills Blaine with fear and dread for a number of reasons. Firstly, Kurt could say no. Then there's the possibility that he'll say yes. Of course, that would be preferable in many ways, but if Kurt likes him- and Santana says there's no reason to think he wasn't being entirely honest when he said he did- then Blaine is about to turn out to be the biggest disappointment ever when he tells him they've inadvertently gotten married. He has forced himself to tell Santana where he is going, knowing full well he won't be able to back out and sure enough, she is waiting for him when he returns home later that evening.

"Well?"

"Well nothing," Blaine grouches, slamming the door behind him. "I got lost."

"You what?!" Santana shrieks, trying not to laugh.

"I got lost. I couldn't remember where he lived exactly, so then I found the diner we went to and tried to retrace our steps, but it was hopeless. I think I was too busy trying to think of intelligent conversation that night to focus on where we were actually going."

"Fool," she chuckles. "What about from here? You came back here from his place, can't you just reverse the directions?"

"I took a cab," he explains, falling onto the couch in despair. "I was all sticky."

Santana snorts at this but then reaches across and pokes him with her foot. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Yeah. Sucks." For more than one reason, he thinks to himself.

"Come out with me and Dani tomorrow. We're going to pyramid again."

"No. Not really my thing."

"You didn't even give it a try last time. Come on," she coaxes. "There's a whole bunch of us going from work. And Ali has three gay roommates."

"I don't want setting up, Santana," he snaps.

"Okay, okay. Just say you'll come."

"Ugh."

"That's a yes."

*  
"Does Blaine know we're going to a club?" Dani whispers to her girlfriend when he emerges from the bathroom and scurries into his room.

"Yes I do," he says, stopping in his doorway and staring at them both accusingly. "I just like to look nice."

He slams the door behind him and Dani turns to Santana with wide eyes. "That's twice he's snapped at me in two weeks."

"He's hoping Kurt will be there," she explains.

"But it's a club," Dani tells her, as if she doesn't know. "And he's wearing a suit with a bow tie."

"Yeah but Blaine always dresses like a grandpa," Santana says evenly, pouring them both more wine.

"Aw. I hope he is there," Dani muses. "That guy deserves to be happy."

*  
Blaine hopes he's there too, not knowing that Kurt has been sitting at the bar every Thursday, Friday and Saturday for the last two weeks just hoping against hope that Blaine might appear. Therefore, he is pleasantly surprised yet also completely terrified to see Kurt sitting on a stool watching him as soon as they enter the room. Completely ignoring Santana and Dani behind him, he pushes past the crowd at the bar and arrives at Kurt's side, smiling before realizing Kurt might be mad so he drops his gaze bashfully.

"Well, well," Kurt smiles and Blaine has the decency to blush and stare at the floor. "It seems that running out on me is becoming quite the habit."

"I uh..." Blaine stammers before forcing himself to make eye contact. "I'm so sorry."

"Maybe we should go to your place this time, just so there's no escape," Kurt teases gently.

"Yeah," Blaine huffs out a laugh, scuffing his feet on the wood floor, then realizing what Kurt is suggesting and looking up sharply. "Serious?"

"Do you want to?" he asks lightly, hoping the young man won't notice the nerves in his voice.

"Yeah," Blaine says with a broad grin. "Yeah. Let's go."

"You've only just got here," Kurt says, eyeing his group of friends who seem to be staring in shocked amazement.

"I don't really care," Blaine says, smiling shyly as he helps Kurt down from his stool. "Do you need to tell anyone you're leaving or..."

"No, I'm here alone." Looking down, he reaches out tentatively for Blaine's fingers, touching them lightly before letting go again. "I wanted to see you again."

Not knowing how on earth he's supposed to respond, Blaine nods curtly, blushes, then gestures for Kurt to walk ahead as they leave the club.

They walk the few blocks back to Blaine's apartment in silence, hands stuffed into pockets as awkwardness ensues. Blaine keeps glancing nervously across at Kurt, as if panicked he'll turn and flee at any second but he doesn't, turning his head to make eye contact instead before blushing and turning away.

"So do you have a roommate?" Kurt asks as Blaine lets them into his building. "I realize how little I actually know about you," he laughs nervously.

"Uh yeah...I live with Santana. The Latino girl I was with in Vegas. She's...an acquired taste," he smiles as they walk up the stairs. "But we've been friends since we were five so I'm used to her by now."

Kurt nods his understanding. "Rachel takes some getting used to as well. We've been friends since high school. We uh...we share a pretty much unbreakable bond."

"You used to sleep with her?" Blaine asks in surprise, his key halted in the lock.

"Oh god no!" Kurt cries, and he can't help but laugh before turning wistful. "No. She uh...she used to date my brother. In fact they were engaged during senior year."

"It didn't work out?"

"He...no," Kurt says with a small shake of his head. "No, it didn't."

"It happens," Blaine says in an attempt to sound knowledgable. "Still, I'm glad you could keep your friendship."

"He died," Kurt blurts loudly, making Blaine stop in the doorway and turn back in surprise. "My brother. Step brother, really. Finn. He uh...he died."

"Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry." And Blaine's there by his side, rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder and making Kurt wonder why telling a virtual stranger something so difficult is suddenly so easy.

"Last year," he says, letting Blaine guide him into the apartment and over to a large couch. "He was only nineteen."

"Kurt, I..."

"And even though him and Rachel weren't together, they were on that road to reconciliation. I think that was almost harder for her to deal with, to be honest. That they never got back on track. Their happy ever after was denied to them by a cruel twist of fate." He swipes at the few tears he can feel escaping, looking to Blaine apologetically. "I'm sorry, you didn't ask for this. It's just...I've never told anyone. Everyone who knows me, knew him. Huh. It still feels strange to talk about him in the past tense."

"I understand," Blaine says kindly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say, but that's more because I never know what to say to anything," he remarks, which makes Kurt smile. "People can ask my name and I stand there, wondering what they're expecting to hear. But I am very sorry you lost your brother. I have a brother. We're not close at all, in age or sentiment, but even so, I'd be heartbroken if he passed away. So yeah...I'm sad for you."

"Thank you," Kurt whispers, then scrunches up his nose. "That's a funny sentiment, isn't it? People say they're sorry for your loss, or they're sympathetic and you say thank you. Like, oh I'm glad I've made you sad too. I've put a damper on the whole evening now."

"No you haven't," Blaine says, scooting closer on the couch and taking his hand. "Not at all. Tell me more about him, if you want? Did you get on well?"

"Yeah," Kurt smiles, momentarily overcome with nostalgia. "Not at first. We were polar opposites. But my dad and his mom hit it off and then we became a family. He uh..." Kurt stops, huffing out a small laugh through his tears. "He was so tall. And a goofball. With a heart of gold."

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"No. Do you?"

"No. I have parents," Blaine offers, internally cursing for saying something so lame.

"Well I didn't think you were knitted," Kurt says, arching one eyebrow, and Blaine laughs loudly.

"I asked for that, I guess."

"You're so cute when you smile," Kurt says, smiling right back at him and tilting his head to one side when Blaine blushes. "Yeah...you're not the only one who never knows what to say."

"It's not... That's very sweet," Blaine stammers. "I just...feel like I haven't properly apologized for the other week. I tried to find your apartment," he says, deciding now isn't really the time to explain exactly why. "But I got lost."

"You got lost?"

"Yeah," he laughs, shaking his head, "I don't really know my way around the city very well, I guess."

"Still, I'm touched that you tried to find me," Kurt says quietly, feeling warm inside at the thought of Blaine wandering the streets trying to locate his building just to see him again.

"Likewise," Blaine admits. "Actually...more surprised. I thought you'd want to avoid me at all costs."

"No..." Kurt says slowly, looking down and playing with their intertwined fingers. "I just really want to know why you ran away again. I thought it was going well."

"It was!" Blaine is quick to reassure, taking Kurt's other hand too and squeezing. "It was perfect. It's just...the...thing...on the couch. It kinda did me in. Quickly."

Kurt eyes him in confusion. "I'm not sure I follow. You didn't enjoy it?"

"I enjoyed it too much," Blaine whispers, his shame now reaching its peak as he feels himself start to sweat under his collar. "Is it hot in here? I could open the window," he rambles, breaking away from Kurt and walking over to pull the window up. "It gets a bit..."

"Blaine." Kurt is hot on his heels, reaching out to still his hands and making him turn around. "Stop. Please. Just...sit down again?" He sighs when Blaine shakes his head, leaning against the wall instead. "I think- and I mean this in the nicest way possible- I think running out on me was dumb. I went to the bathroom because my underwear was wet and sticky and cold. I returned to ask you if you wanted to use the shower or anything and you'd gone. I've spent two weeks worrying that I'd pushed you into something you weren't ready for. I didn't mean to do that, but you were just...there. And really, seriously hot. I got carried away, I guess. It's just..."

"Your underwear was...?" Blaine trails off as it dawns on him. "Oh."

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "And you're not the only one who finds it difficult to talk about this stuff." And Blaine notices the blush spreading over his cheeks up to the tips of his ears and down below his collar.

"Maybe you could be a bit louder next time," Blaine says, causing Kurt to look up sharply. "Just so I know."

"Okay...are you joking with me right now? Because I just can't tell."

"Yes," Blaine laughs. "Yes I'm joking with you. I have a good poker face, that's all."

"Okay," Kurt gives in and laughs along with him. "Well at least you're smiling again, which makes me feel all funny inside," he admits. "And I promise that next time I'll shout your name loudly and inform you that I have indeed, reached the moment." He grins broadly, then becomes serious. "Um...I'm assuming you weren't joking about there being a next time?"

"No!" Blaine says hastily. "No, that was more a wild dream. We're really terrible at this, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Kurt breathes, a slow smile spreading over his face once more.

"You're not supposed to say that," Blaine tells him with a straight face. "You're supposed to say something like...I don't know...like 'Well, Blaine, I'm terrible at it but you're charming and debonair, the perfect picture of sophistication.' But you didn't. And now I'm hurt."

Kurt laughs more than Blaine's ever seen, and he's pretty sure he's forgotten that he doesn't like his own smile, cause he seems to be showing it off quite a lot.

"You're really funny," Kurt says, eyes crinkling as he laughs all out. "Anyway, how do you know what I'm supposed to say? You said you never know what to talk about."

"I don't," Blaine says honestly. "I always say dumb stuff." He takes a step toward Kurt, reaching out as if to touch him but pulling back at the last second. "Like now, I really should offer you a drink or something, but instead I'm going to blurt something completely stupid about how I really want to kiss you again, cause the feel of your lips on mine was perfect and I haven't stopped thinking of it."

"And I'm just gonna say 'same'."

And then Kurt's mouth is on his, soft, warm and pliant. Both are more confident this time, Blaine's hands finding Kurt's waist immediately and pulling him close as Kurt slides one hand around to the back of his neck.

It's the best feeling in the world, Kurt thinks to himself, whimpering softly at the touch of Blaine's tongue against his lips. Kissing this beautiful, shy boy who somehow summons the courage to not only talk with him, but also to make him laugh. And how happy he feels right now. After months of mourning for Finn, Rachel and Kurt had decided Vegas would afford them a much needed weekend of reckless freedom. He hadn't entertained the idea of meeting someone who could very well turn out to be the key to his happiness. He wants to know more, touch more, taste more- literally anything to do with Blaine has his heart beating faster and his mind running overtime with countless possibilities. And Blaine likes him back, he's confident of that- especially now, with the way he's getting backed slowly against the wall as Blaine presses himself against him in the most delicious manner.

"Seriously," Blaine pants, breaking the kiss and looking at him with wide, dark eyes. "Did you want a drink?"

Kurt laughs, kissing his lips again- just because he can. "I am kinda thirsty, but I also really like kissing you."

"I could kiss you after?"

"Promise?"

Blaine's eyes search into Kurt's blue ones, both dancing with happiness. "Yeah," he breathes, smiling softly. "Promise."

They pull themselves together enough for Blaine to fetch soda from the fridge, leading Kurt to the kitchen table where he immediately reaches for his hand. "I like your apartment," Kurt says politely, and he means it. It is a little larger than his own, and the furniture is definitely new and not sourced from flea markets like his and Rachel's. But it still feels warm, lived in. A home rather than just a place to crash. The kitchen is spacious, with a large round oak table in the middle of the room and a clutter of notes, letters and reminders pinned haphazardly to a large pin board or held on the fridge with magnets. Kurt smiles over Blaine's shoulder at a picture of him and Santana standing knee deep in snow, with their arms proudly around a giant snowman.

"Last Christmas," Blaine tells him, noticing him looking. "Central Park."

"You didn't go home?"

"Nope," he answers, and Kurt senses that for the moment, that's all he's going to get.

"If I told you I haven't stopped thinking about you, would you believe me?" Kurt asks, and Blaine looks up in surprise.

"Uh...actually...I think that I would, yes," he says, allowing himself to grin broadly. "Because I've been the same about you."

"Last time, when I told you I thought you were hot, you seemed...I don't know. You seemed like you didn't believe me, you thought I was lying."

"It's not..." Blaine pauses, trying to work out how to accurately voice his thoughts. "It's not that I didn't trust you, it's more that I just have real trouble believing that someone could find me attractive, that's all."

"I do, Blaine. I really do." He looks down at their hands, holding each other's loosely and resting on the table. Rubbing his thumb over Blaine's palm he studies his face, the way in which he ducks his head shyly at any form of positive praise and a small smile plays on his lips. "Am I pushing too far?" he asks gently when Blaine doesn't respond.

"No." Shaking his head, he stands, tugging Kurt up with him. "I believe I promised kisses," he says, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Kurt follows willingly, eyes widening when Blaine walks across the living room and opens a door. "Your...your bedroom?" he asks in surprise.

"Now I'm the one who's pushed it too far," Blaine says in horror when he takes in the shock on Kurt's face. "Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"No! No," Kurt walks over to him- still frozen in the doorway- and nuzzles gently against his cheek. "You surprised me, that's all."

"It wasn't...I wasn't trying to..."

"I know."

Blaine nods, and flips on a desk lamp, closing the door behind them as Kurt studies the room. Masculine, is the first thing that comes to mind. Dark curtains, dark wood floors, dark bedding on a dark mahogany bed. The rest of the furniture- desk, bookcase, nightstands and dresser is all white, but the bed seems to dominate in the stark environment. It's so very...clinical, almost, that Kurt doesn't really know what to say, so he says the only thing he can think which is "Your bed is enormous."

"Yeah," he laughs. "When we came to view the place, the owner asked if we wanted to buy it as he didn't think he could get it out the building- he bought it in kit form and built it in here. So I took him up on it. I love it, but the new mattress cost eight hundred dollars."

"What? Well now I need to test it," Kurt laughs, bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed. "Nice."

"You can uh...you can lie down on it, if you want." Blaine tells him, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room as if not sure where to position himself.

Kurt kicks his shoes off and lies back against the pillows, sighing contentedly at the infinitely more luxurious feel of Blaine's mattress compared to his own. "Why, that's like heaven on a bed," he groans, loving the way it moulds to his shape. Blaine opens his mouth to say something but clearly thinks better of it, shaking his head and snapping his jaw shut, but Kurt is on it. "What?"

"Nothing."

"No... You were going to say something. What was it?"

"I really can't say, because so far, things are going well... I think. And if I say what I was going to say, you'll run, I'm pretty sure of it."

"Well now I'm intrigued," Kurt says, in what he hopes is a beguiling and sultry tone. He pushes himself up on his elbows, smiling at him. "So tell me."

Blaine huffs loudly, rolling his eyes. "You said it's like heaven on a bed and I was going to say no, _you're_ heaven on _my_ bed. So there's that. Now you can run."

Kurt's insides do cartwheels of happiness at his words, but he tries to play it cool. "Come here, you fool," he laughs. "You promised me kisses."

Blaine sits at the edge, leaning down to give him a perfunctory kiss to the cheek, but Kurt boldly fists the front of his shirt and tugs him on top of him, kissing him deeply, and Blaine finds himself emboldened, moving to lie fully on top of Kurt, who winds his arms around his neck and opens his legs for him to slot between.

Blaine kisses Kurt hungrily, hands framing his face as his tongue slides into his mouth and Kurt hums his appreciation. Slowly, steadily, Blaine allows passion to dictate his every movement rather than nerves, and Kurt cries out loudly when he moves to kiss along his jaw and scrape his teeth down his neck.

"Holy shit! That feels good," Kurt moans.

"I want..." Blaine gets out, before kissing just behind Kurt's ear, wanting and needing to taste this gorgeously disheveled man beneath him.

"What? What do you want?" Kurt gasps, pulling Blaine down by the hips so their erections slot together.

"I don't know," he admits, laughing softly and to Kurt's dismay, he rolls away to lie on his back, rubbing his hands over his face and staring at the ceiling. "I don't know because I've never..."

"Just...just take your shirt off," Kurt urges gently, sitting up to unbutton his own. Blaine obliges, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed even though they both have undershirts on. "I think I want what you want," Kurt tells him, quietly embarrassed. "Which is everything and nothing all at once."

"Yeah," Blaine smiles. "That's about it."

"Lie down," Kurt suggests, and Blaine lies back with his arms folded protectively over his body. "Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to his belt buckle.

"I guess," Blaine says, heart beating fearfully in his chest. He wants to sit and explain to Kurt exactly what he is and isn't ready for in minute detail, but he knows he'd never be able to explain himself properly this side of Christmas anyway, and all he does know is that right now, he wants to be close to Kurt.

So Kurt kneels between his legs, unfastening his pants and sliding them down past his hips before he stares. And stares some more. "Are those...Christmas trees?" he asks, eyes fixed on Blaine's insanely tight boxer briefs. "It's May."

"Oh god!" Blaine groans loudly in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands. "Whatever must you think of me? Oh crap. It's just...when I put them on, I didn't envisage this scenario arising for at least twelve years, and they make a smooth silhouette under the pants- which are quite tight so..."

"Blaine," Kurt smirks. "It's okay."

"Are you laughing at me?" he asks, voice small and cheeks flaming as he pulls his hands away.

"No," he says with a chuckle. "It is funny, but I can't laugh because I'm wearing Yoda."

"Yeah right."

"Hmm, I guess there's only one way for you to find out," he grins teasingly, and Blaine shifts onto his elbows to stare at him.

"Really?"

"Take a look."

"You do it," Blaine says, gesturing vaguely toward Kurt's crotch.

Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Kurt lies down on the bed next to him, turning his face to look him boldly in the eye, hoping Blaine won't hear his heart pounding. "Uh-uh. You."

"I've never..."

"What? Taken pants off before? Undone a belt?"

"Right," Blaine says decisively. Hurriedly fiddling with Kurt's pants and yanking them down to his ankles, he roars with laughter at the unmistakable face of Yoda emblazoned across the front of Kurt's boxers. "Okay," he says, wiping at tears. "Imma have to lie on top of that so he doesn't distract me." And he grabs Kurt behind his bent knees, pulling him further down the bed before draping himself over him. "Am I heavy?"

"You're perfect."

And in that instant, everything in Blaine soars as he finally, finally realizes that Kurt means it. Leaning down, he kisses him slowly, cupping his cheek sweetly before shifting his weight to one side to smooth a hand along the small gap between Kurt's t-shirt and underwear, marvelling at how soft and smooth, yet perfectly manly he feels beneath him. He's waited and waited to have a moment like this, and to finally be in this situation with a guy as utterly amazing as this... Well it leaves Blaine a quivering wreck. Their kissing becomes heated once again, and Kurt brings his leg up to wrap around Blaine's waist, encouraging him to grind against him once again.

"I don't think," Blaine breathes hotly into his ear. "I don't think I'll..."

"Same," Kurt admits, throwing his head back for Blaine to kiss into the hollow of his throat. "Feels too good."

Blaine keeps rubbing against him, knowing he's perilously close to spilling hard, especially when Kurt fists his hair tightly, breaking the stiff armor of gel apart and tugging hard. "Yes, Blaine!" he cries loudly, in his haze still trying to keep his promise about giving notice. "Yes!"

But Blaine is too far gone to hear him. It's quick again, he knows. But he couldn't care less when he feels the wetness of Kurt's orgasm rubbing at him through his own underwear and digging his fingers into Kurt's shoulder, he comes too.

"Do not run away," Kurt murmurs into Blaine's salty, sweaty neck which tastes divine when he kisses there.

"I don't think I'll ever move again," Blaine says, lifting his head weakly. "Wow."

"What?"

"You just look so incredibly beautiful," he says softly, rolling off Kurt and onto his side, smiling when Kurt mimics the action so they're knee to knee, elbow to elbow and nose to nose. "Sorta...glowing."

"Well that's cause I sorta really, really liked that," Kurt teases gently, trying to play it cool and not giggle hysterically. "I was louder, did you notice?"

"I did," Blaine grins. "I felt it this time, too. It's better, without pants."

"Infinitely," Kurt agrees, "but even so, I'm gonna want to use your bathroom in a minute. Please don't take that as a bad thing, okay? I just need to clean up a little before I go home."

"Kurt..." Blaine hesitates before taking the plunge. "Would you maybe like to stay here tonight? In this bed, I mean. With me."

Kurt's face lights up. "Well I have zero interest in staying in it without you," he says, desperately wanting to kiss the tip of his nose but not quite being brave enough. "I would really like that, Blaine. Thank you. No one's ever asked me to stay before."

A brief feeling of unease makes itself known to Blaine, when he thinks about Kurt being with other people the way he's just been with him...or more. But then happiness overtakes it once more when he remembers he will be the first one to ever share a bed with him for a whole night.

"I can lend you some pajamas," Blaine smiles. "Batman or Superman, your choice."

"No Star Wars?"

"No, sorry," he chuckles.

"Then next time you'll have to stay at mine," Kurt whispers, leaning in to kiss at his cheek.

They take it in turns to clean up and change into pajamas, meeting again to snuggle down under the covers, both feeling suddenly awkward and on edge once again. "Okay, you were brave enough to tell me you liked me, so I'm gonna bite the bullet and tell you that I'd really like to hold you, if that's okay?" Blaine says, biting his lip.

Reaching out, Kurt strokes his cheek gently. "You make me so happy," he whispers, before turning out the lamp and settling into Blaine's embrace.


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine wakes alone, superman pajamas folded neatly on the end of his bed. He feels deflated, and his heart lurches when he sees a note propped up on the dresser.

_Dear Blaine,  
I am so, so sorry! This is not what it looks like, I swear. I totally forgot I had work today, and I woke up at six and realized I only had an hour to get there. I didn't relish the thought of nine hours in yesterday's clothes, and you were sleeping so soundly... So technically, I've run out on you. But I really didn't want to._

_I had a wonderful time with you last night, and I really can't wait to see you again. Please believe me when I say you are all of the following adjectives and more: Beautiful, handsome, smart, funny, caring, cute, sexy, brave._

_Call me. Call me tonight. I want to play it cool and say call me whenever, but I really want to see you again soon. So please, call me._

_Kurt xxx_

Blaine is grinning ear to ear by the time he finishes the letter, re-reading it again before noticing Kurt hasn't left his number at the bottom. Frowning, he turns the paper over in his hands, but the back is empty too. He scours the desk frantically, and even fumbles in his jacket pocket to see if Kurt has put his number directly into his phone, but no.

"Noooo," he says softly, going back to searching any available surface. "No, Kurt, you did not...Noooo!" he shouts in frustration, kicking the foot of his bed and then regretting it.

His yell has Santana rushing across the living room and throwing his door open, squinting as she tries to wake up. "Huh? Wha'?"

"His number!" Blaine cries desperately. "He didn't leave his number!" Thrusting the piece of paper at her, he continues his fruitless search, expanding it to the living room though he knows it's unlikely.

"He obviously forgot," Santana says helpfully, following him from the room.

"Oh really. You don't say? Agh! It was going so well!"

"Well at least you can recognize that now," she says, wandering into the kitchen to get coffee. "So he stayed?"

"Yes he stayed, but that doesn't matter, does it? Because I still have no way of finding him!"

Santana re-enters, handing him a steaming mug before curling up on the couch with her feet tucked under. "So you go to pyramid tonight," she shrugs. "Chances are, he'll realize his mistake, and knowing that's the only place he's seen you so far, he'll go back there again."

But Kurt isn't at the club that night, and Blaine and Santana sit on stools drinking Apple martinis until they stumble home for Blaine to whine pitifully about lost opportunities until Santana kicks him.

Sunday is spent nursing the hangover, and Monday starts off terribly when he wakes late for class. He tears out the apartment, just knowing his hair looks ridiculous from the lack of product in it, and cursing his forgotten bow tie which leaves his throat feeling cold and exposed, and he himself feeling vulnerable. It is in this state that he stomps into the coffee shop near campus, after having one of the worst classes ever which puts him in a foul mood, and of course- of course- it is in this state that he bumps into Kurt, sitting alone at a table for two.

"Shit!"

"What a lovely greeting," Kurt smiles. "But before you curse at me again, here," holding his phone out, he takes Blaine's own from his hand. "Can we please, please swap numbers? I'm such a dumbass, and I'm so sorry. It hit me mid way through the day that I didn't write my number down and I felt like such a fool. I was going to go back to pyramid that night, but Rachel was feeling down so I stayed with her and we watched a movie. I..."

"I went back," Blaine says shyly. "So I know you weren't there. But it's okay now," he says, handing his phone back to him with a smile. "I'm sorry for cursing, it's just...I'm having a really bad day. Or I was, anyway. Uh...can I buy you a coffee?" he stammers, feeling the now familiar heat of awkward embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck.

"I kinda..." Kurt trails off, gesturing to his full coffee cup, feeling suddenly sad that he arrived five minutes earlier.

"Right. Sorry, sorry. Of course you do."

"Would you like to join me?" he asks hopefully, but Blaine is already shaking his head.

"I have to get back to class. I just...needed coffee really. I was late this morning."

"I like your hair today," Kurt blurts out, still looking up at him and wishing he would sit down and stay a little while. "It looks good."

"It's wild," Blaine pouts, in that negative, defeatist way he has which makes Kurt want to take him in his arms and reassure him.

"I think it's lovely."

Blaine doesn't know how to respond, and Kurt doesn't know what else to say so they stand and sit in awkward silence until Blaine looks at his watch, shaking his head sadly and cursing himself for not making the most of these precious and unexpected moments. "I'd better...Come out with me?"

"Huh?"

"I'd really like to take you out on a date," Blaine tells his shoes. "If-if you wanted to, I mean."

Kurt lets out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a squeak, and looks up to see Blaine waiting nervously. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that." He wants to add about seven hundred 'reallys' onto that, but he stops himself, biting his lip in a manner which makes Blaine swoon. "Tomorrow?"

"Oh!" Blaine's surprise is evident and Kurt turns back to the coffee cup once more.

"Too soon."

"No! Tomorrow is good. Yeah. I have class until six but..."

"I could meet you here?"

"Yeah," and Blaine simply cannot help the little bounce of happiness that he does. "Yeah, here. Six fifteen?"

"Perfect."

"Okay, well I'd better..." he trails off, gesturing lamely toward the door.

"Sure, sure. I'll um...I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt grins up at him.

"Tomorrow." And then Blaine surprises both himself and Kurt in that way he has, and leans down to kiss his cheek, only Kurt goes the same way and they mutter and mumble embarrassed apologies before both trying the other way at the same time. And then Blaine sighs, smiles, takes Kurt's face in his hands and kisses him soundly on the mouth before straightening up and grinning. "Bye."

Kurt sits stunned for a second as Blaine saunters toward the door, but then manages to gather himself to call after him, making him stop with his hand on the door. "Blaine! You forgot to get coffee!"

"Nah," he says, biting his bottom lip bashfully. "Don't need it anymore."

As it turns out, Blaine skips his class the next day, far too anxious about his impending date with Kurt to concentrate. He stays home and sets out every outfit imaginable, whistling happily as he showers, shaves and then tries to decide what to wear. Eventually he is decided on a tight red polo with smart black jeans, but he adds a bow tie for good measure, for both comfort and style. He pulls his favorite gray cardigan over, knowing Santana would roll her eyes at him if she were here, but she's not, so he carries on regardless. He spends an age fixing his hair in the mirror. Kurt had specifically commented on it yesterday, so for his benefit only, he decides to use a little less gel than usual, but he knows he still needs to tame those curls. It is only once he's staring at his own reflection, for once satisfied with his appearance, that he allows his conscience a voice.

"Tell him you're married."

Sitting heavily on the bed, Blaine stares at the wall for the longest time, trying to reconcile the drunken Vegas wedding which neither of them have any recollection of, with the stunning, sweet and sexy Kurt Hummel he's found here, in New York. He needs to tell him, he supposes, and given that it's now been over a month, and he and Kurt have hooked up twice since then, admitted they both have feelings for one another, spent a night in each others arms and are now about to go on their first official date...it's not going to go over well.

Maybe the end of the date would be the best time? Yes. Give them both this moment. Be selfish, Blaine tells himself. You're entitled. Eighteen years old and about to go on his first ever date? Yeah, Blaine doesn't want to fuck it up before it's even begun. That's what he'll do. Invite Kurt back for coffee, definitely not fall into bed with him, but sit down and tell him quietly, calmly and hope against hope that Kurt understands. Yes.

Blaine Anderson has always had a wonderful way of pushing unwanted thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind and leaving them there, locked up tight in a box that he just will not allow his brain to open at any cost. His relationship with his parents sits there, along with the memories of school bullies which has him feeling sick the second he thinks about it. He files the marriage away there too, for now, at least, and makes his way to the coffee shop where Kurt stands waiting for him.

"Am I late?"

"No! No. I'm early, it's fine," Kurt says. He reaches out to take Blaine's hand, but thinks better of it and grazes their fingertips together in a shy greeting instead. "You look good. Nice, I mean! Nice." Kurt blushes a deep red. "Nice is lame. I should've stayed with good."

"It's usually me who doesn't know what to say," Blaine says, smiling softly.

"Yeah it's just..." Kurt trails off, shaking his head..

"Do you like art?"

"Um, I don't know," Kurt answers honestly. "I like pictures on my walls."

"I thought we could go to MOMA? If you wanted, I mean. We don't have to."

"Um..."

"Museum of Modern Art," he clarifies.

"I'd like that," Kurt nods, and they cross the street to walk through the park toward the subway.

"You look good too, by the way," Blaine remarks as casually as he can. "I was going to say good enough to eat, but that would be all sorts of wrong."

Kurt smiles and ducks his head, so enamoured by Blaine's blustering, stumbling ways that he can hardly hide the giggles he can feel building inside.

"Not that I wouldn't want to," Blaine carries on, before clamping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he stops walking. "I'm so sorry. Well, I'm not sorry but I am and I... I should just shut up now, shouldn't I?"

"I think that would probably be best," Kurt says quietly, stepping close to him and taking his hand. "I think we both need to relax a little." And leaning down just a touch, he places a lingering kiss to Blaine's mouth which is parted in surprise, pulling back just in time to see his long, dark eyelashes fluttering as his eyes close and he sighs in pleasure.

"Better," he whispers, and they walk on, still holding hands.

"Can I tell you something?" Kurt asks after a while.

"Sure."

"You might think this is strange, and I don't even really know why I'm telling you but...I've never been on a date before."

"Huh?" Blaine stops dead, openly staring at Kurt in amazement at his bizarre confession. Because that's what it is, to Blaine. Kurt- wonderful, beautiful Kurt- is standing in front of him, cheeks pink with embarrassment, biting on his lip and telling him that this is his first date. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," he says, avoiding all eye contact and staring at the ground.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why haven't you ever been on a date before?"

Kurt shrugs, wishing he had never started this excruciatingly embarrassing conversation. "No one's ever asked."

"Then everyone else is a fool, and I'm not," Blaine says proudly. "First time for everything."

"I'm glad you asked me out," he admits, reaching for Blaine's hand once more. "I don't think I'd have summoned the courage."

"Oh I don't know, you asked for my number," Blaine points out, tugging him gently to start walking again. "That's pretty courageous. And the note you left."

"It's easier, on paper, or by text. Faceless."

"True," Blaine agrees. "You're mine too, you know," he blurts, walking a little faster in an effort to hide his shame. "My first date. Though you probably knew that already."

"I didn't, actually," Kurt says with a small frown. "Why would I?"

"No, I suppose not many eighteen year olds still haven't had their first dates."

"Well I'm nineteen, so you're positively advanced," Kurt tells him and they both laugh.

Their subway ride forces them into silence once more, both still too nervous and unfamiliar with the other to make conversation in a cramped car, but Kurt enjoys the solid warmth of Blaine's chest pressing into his side probably far more than he ought, and becomes grateful when they reach their destination before he finds himself in a rather embarrassing situation. They walk out of the subway into the immediate hustle and bustle of busy Manhattan, and Blaine reaches for Kurt's hand once more.

"I don't want to lose you," he explains, and Kurt wonders and hopes fervently that there might be a double meaning behind those words.

The museum is quiet with only an hour to go before closing, but Blaine doesn't let go of Kurt's hand as they study a photographic display, or rather, Blaine studies the photos while Kurt studies him. The sweet little way he tilts his head this way and that, squinting slightly to look at more intricate details has Kurt smiling and longing to kiss him again, but he holds off, deciding that for now he will settle for getting to know Blaine a little better.

"So where do you study?"

"NYU," Blaine says, a little proudly. "Theatre and Education at Steinhart."

"You're kidding me?"

"Uh...no," Blaine says in confusion.

"I'm at NYADA. We're just down the street!"

"You're at NYADA? Wow."

"Yeah. Musical theatre. I can't believe we haven't bumped into each other before now."

"Maybe we have," Blaine offers. "But we just didn't notice."

"Oh trust me Blaine, I'd have noticed you."

Blaine stares at the ground, embarrassed. "I don't think you would. I'm pretty...unnoticeable."

Kurt steps closer, lifting his chin gently until their eyes meet. "No Blaine, you're pretty. There's nothing uneventful, uninteresting or unnoticeable about you- if that's even a word."

"Can I kiss you?" Blaine whispers, his eyes wide and dancing with hope as he studies Kurt.

"Here?"

"Right here."

Kurt's eyes flit over Blaine's shoulder for a second to the dozen or so people milling about in the large room. Ordinarily, the idea of being kissed in public would make him want to recoil in horror, because he knows Blaine doesn't mean a quick peck, but he also knows he wants this, he wants to feel those lips on his more than anything in the world. "Yeah."

And Blaine inclines his head slowly, grazing their lips together in that magical way he has before going back in for more, one hand sliding to the back of Kurt's neck, his thumb resting perfectly under his ear as his other arm circles his waist tightly. And Kurt lets go, losing himself in the moment and kissing back with just as much fervour, letting his tongue slide into Blaine's mouth as they both breathe in sharply.

A good full minute passes but in the end Blaine pulls back reluctantly, knowing that now is not the time or the place to tackle Kurt backward onto that bench like he so desperately wants to, and he rests their foreheads together to whisper to him. "Please don't move just yet."

"Okay," Kurt whispers back with a blissful smile, happy to stay in Blaine's arms where he's pretty sure he belongs. "I can't move anyway."

"Talk to me," Blaine begs quietly. "About anything other than kissing."

"Sex?"

"Funny."

"So..." Kurt says, a light laugh playing in his voice. "Education. You want to teach?"

"Yes," Blaine says, happily seizing on the distraction. "Kindergarten."

"Serious?"

"That's what everyone says," Blaine tells him, a little disheartened. "I don't get why it's such a big deal."

"Because it's hard to find an eighteen year old man with such compassion, that's why. Kindergarten is tough and requires an awful lot of patience and dedication. You need to have a big, open and loving heart and guys our age are often too self centered. Wow. Blaine, I really admire you."

"Oh." Blaine smiles, allowing himself a moment to revel in the compliment. "No one's ever been so nice about it before, thank you."

"I'm aware that I don't know you very well yet, but from what I've seen, I'd say you'd make an excellent Kindy teacher."

"Yet?" Blaine teases gently.

"Well...I..."

"Me too."

"Oh."

"So, NYADA?" Blaine asks, well aware that both their problems have passed yet they're still holding one another in the middle of the room, foreheads pressed together as if nothing and no one else exists. "You want to perform?"

"Actually, I don't know," Kurt admits. "Is that bad? I knew I wanted to study there, and I love it. But actually, I've been leaning more toward teaching too. Older though. High school, or even college."

"I don't think that's bad, I think most people don't know their exact career plans at our age, and that's okay. I think I want to teach Kindy, but I don't know for certain. I start my first training post next semester, one day a week at an elementary school in Brooklyn. I might hate it."

"I don't think you will. I'm thinking I might volunteer in my third year too, helping in the freshman acting class."

"If you taught college wouldn't you need a doctorate?"

"Yes. And experience in performing, if I wanted to teach theatre anywhere of note, at least. But I guess I could perform while studying for that and...oh, who knows? It's a long way in the future."

"It is," Blaine nods, "and I guess we better head to another exhibition if we're to see anything before the place closes."

They walk from the room hand in hand, and Kurt can't help but notice the huge smug grin Blaine has, so full of confidence and completely at odds with the shy, trembling, nervous man he's so often encountered. "What?" he asks, which only serves to make Blaine's grin wider.

"Nothing."

"Yeah right," he laughs, bumping their shoulders together. "You look like the cat who got the cream. What is it?"

"I guess I just can't believe I kissed you back there," he says, swinging their clasped hands between them. "I don't know what it is about you, but you make me feel like I can do anything- conquer the whole damn world if I wanted. I could never, ever imaging I'd be plucky enough to kiss someone- like, properly kiss them- in a room full of people."

"I can't believe I accepted," Kurt laughs. "Except...it's you. So I kinda can."

They both shut right up then as they enter the portrait gallery and the enormity of their confessions wash over them. Blaine seems to know his way around, and tugs Kurt across the large room to a painting of an old woman staring out into the distance. "It's called 'Love,'" Blaine explains. "My favorite piece in the whole place." He guides Kurt to the bench and watches as he takes the painting in.

"I don't know if she's supposed to be happy or sad," Kurt says after a while. "It's beautiful but poignant."

"It's open to interpretation," Blaine's soft voice comes from his side. "But I agree, she does look wistful and nostalgic. Step closer and look right into her eyes. Tell me what you see."

Kurt does as he's told, squinting and leaning far over the rope before coming back to Blaine's side. "There's a boy reflected in her pupils," he says in surprise. "It's watery and faint, but it's there. I can see him. Is that her son?"

Blaine shrugs, reaching for Kurt's hand once more and staring at their fingers laced together as he speaks. "Could be. But I have a theory. I think it's her husband, her soulmate, her one true love, whatever you want to call it. The one. And I think she's remembering how he looked when they first met. I don't think she's looking at him at all, I think the reason the whole portrait is so bittersweet is because he's gone."

"He's died?"

"Yes. I think he died and she's sad yet also happy. He's a teenage boy in that reflection. They were together for many, many years so she's happy she had all that time with him yet sad because he's no longer here to hold her."

"Wow," Kurt says softly, swiping at the sudden moisture in his eyes. "That's...that's heartbreakingly beautiful. Is that really the story behind it?"

"I don't know. I've never looked it up because I don't want to know. I like my version and I'd like it to stay that way."

"I like your version too. Can I keep it and claim it as ours?"

Blaine looks at him, open and sincere. "You can claim whatever you want as ours."

"This place?" Kurt smiles shyly.

"We totally own it."

"Super hero pajamas and garish underwear?"

"All ours."

"This?" he asks, raising their clasped hands and kissing Blaine's fingertips.

"It all belongs to us."

"I like the sound of that," Kurt smiles, and they sit contentedly side by side studying the painting once more.

"You're my first everything," Blaine says quietly, after a long time has passed, continuing to stare straight ahead at the wall.

"Sorry?"

"First date, first kiss, first time I've ever...with anyone...first time anyone's paid attention to me, really." Blaine's cheeks flame red and he resolutely does not turn his head to the right, instead trying to imagine the look of abject horror on Kurt's face.

But Kurt doesn't respond, only nods slightly and they sit shoulder to shoulder, holding hands in a silence which should be uncomfortable, but isn't. "Same," he whispers, just loud enough for Blaine to hear.

"What?"

"First everything," he says, turning to him. "First kiss...and it was so much more than I could have ever dreamed."

"Aw," Blaine looks down at their clasped hands, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know about that. I didn't really know what I was doing.."

"Nor did I," Kurt points out. "But we neither of us noticed, in fact, I thought it was perfect. First time...yeah...first time anyone's got me off that wasn't...uh...me." He blusters on through his blushes, determined to get this all out in the open now. "And I just hoped and prayed it was okay for you, and that I didn't totally embarrass myself, which is why I tried to play it so cool when we talked about it. And then when we did it again it was...just...wonderful. That's lame. I hate using lame adjectives. It was incredible, is maybe what I'm trying to say. It was incredible for lots of reasons, but mostly because I got to fall asleep in your arms after."

"You're not...like...messing with me, are you?" Blaine asks hesitantly. "Because I find it hard to believe that no one has ever wanted to kiss you before now."

"They might have wanted," Kurt shrugs. "In fact, I know they've wanted. But I'm not that kind of guy. I don't hook up randomly...Vegas was an exception to the rule- though it was hardly a hook up given that we didn't even kiss but...maybe my drunken mind knew something that I just couldn't fathom at the time."

"Uh so you've never..." Blaine mumbles before clearing his throat, desperate to move the conversation away from Vegas as quickly as possible. "You've never..."

"I've never anything," Kurt reiterates. "I could have, but I didn't want to. I'm not holding out, necessarily, I just think some things are worth waiting for, and I class kisses, sex and anything else in between as those types of things."

"You-you thought I was worth it?" Blaine asks quietly, his heart soaring in happiness.

"I did. I do. Yes."

"And no one before me? I mean, there must be a ton of gay guys on your course? There are on mine. The theatre part, anyway."

"Lots," Kurt agrees. "And I guess that's the first time I realized I had...admirers," he says, almost choking on the word in embarrassment. "But the guys in my class...they're not after the same thing. I'm not looking for marriage and babies," he says, oblivious to Blaine's wince. "Not yet, anyhow. But I do want a relationship- and an exclusive one at that- before I'd even think about letting anyone see me vulnerable. And that's what it is. If you're naked, or letting someone do stuff to you, you're entrusting your pleasure into their hands and letting them watch you do something so personal as orgasm with them watching...well to me, that requires a level of trust that I find hard to give and which I'm unwilling to give to someone unless I really like them a lot."

"But you let me," Blaine points out. "I think you were guarded the first time, but the second..."

"Because I like you a lot," Kurt clarifies. "I told you that the first night we went back to mine. And yes, I guess I was guarded in part but also it rushed up on me so quick. I wasn't expecting that. I think I just really let myself relax and be with you...which resulted in my body finishing it all before my brain even had a chance to register what was happening, and by the time it did I couldn't have stopped it if I tried. You're easy to be with because you are firstly- and this is completely shallow- you're drop dead gorgeous, but also because you make me feel like I'm worth something. Other guys don't do that. They're too...predatory, I guess."

"Yeah I'll bet they are," Blaine grumbles. "Toward you, anyway."

"Is that...are you...jealous?" Kurt asks, taking the color of Blaine's cheeks for confirmation and laughing out loud. "They're not a threat, Blaine, I can assure you."

They jump at the loudspeaker announcement telling them to make their way to the exit as the museum will be closing in ten minutes, and Blaine laughs, stands and offers Kurt his hand which he readily accepts. "Great first date. Take you to an art gallery and we look at two pieces."

"Perfect first date actually," Kurt says, swapping their hand holding for linking his arm through Blaine's instead. "Aren't first dates supposed to be about getting to know one another a little better? I feel like we're doing just that."

"We are," Blaine agrees happily, overwhelmed once more at the way in which Kurt never considers him to be an abject failure. "C'mon, let's go to the shop quickly. I want to buy something."

The something turns out to be two postcards of the painting, and Blaine proudly hands one to Kurt. "Stick it on your fridge or something," he says lightly. "Something to remember your first date."

"Our first date," he corrects, kissing his cheek in thanks. "And I will not just stick it on my fridge. I'm gonna frame it."

Blaine makes one of his funny little squeaking noises which Kurt now knows to be when he's so flushed with pleasure that he can't formulate words, and they step out into the warm spring evening, the sky just starting to turn dark.

"Wanna get hot dogs?" Blaine asks on a whim, and then immediately starts up with a tirade of internal mental abuse. Firstly, if Kurt was expecting a dinner invite, he wouldn't be expecting it to be at a street vendor. Secondly, Kurt looks like something so sinful as a hotdog has never passed his lips and thirdly...no. Just no. You don't take a date to get hot dogs, Blaine, you just don't."

"Hell yes," Kurt laughs, tugging them in the direction of Central Park. "Can't think of anything better. Hey, do you like chili dogs? There's this guy on the corner, does the best chili dogs I've ever had."

"You-you like hot dogs?"

"No, Blaine," he says, rolling his eyes fondly. "I'm just working my way around Manhattan street vendors for the fun of it, what do you think?"

"Chili and cheese," Blaine says, making Kurt laugh once more.

They wander into the edge of the park, sitting side by side to eat the dogs in happy silence except for the sound of their chewing and man, can Kurt eat, Blaine thinks to himself. He's finished in record time, balling his napkin and throwing it in the trash before settling back on the bench with his soda. "Good job we had the same," he says, marvelling at how obscenely polite of an eater Blaine is. Mouth closed, small mouthfuls, delicately dabbing the corners of his lips with the napkin, the lot. "Neither of us will notice if our breath stinks."

Blaine laughs, tossing his cup and napkin past him where they land expertly in the trash can. "What's to say I'll be getting close enough to know what your breath smells like anyway?" he asks with a questioning eyebrow raised. "How very presumptuous of you."

"Oh trust me," Kurt throws back as flirtatiously as he can. "You're gonna."

Blaine laughs and shifts right to the end of the bench, folding his arms and sticking his tongue out for good measure, enjoying the way Kurt's eyes crinkle up in happiness. "You have mustard on your nose," Kurt says through his laughter as Blaine goes cross eyed looking for it. "Is that a desperate ploy for me to kiss you?"

"No," he answers honestly, wiping it away. "But you can kiss me if you want."

"I thought you didn't want to taste me?"

Blaine slides back along the bench again, taking Kurt completely off guard when he leans in and kisses hotly just beneath his ear. "I wanna taste every inch of you," he whispers, making Kurt shiver before he pulls back, embarrassed by his boldness. "I mean..."

"I know," Kurt reassures, cupping his jaw and pulling him closer to kiss him on the lips, long slow and lingering, leaving them both wanting more.

"C'mon," Blaine says quietly. "I should get you home."

The moment broken, they walk back toward the subway, Kurt's arm linked through Blaine's as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The train is crammed full again, and Kurt squeezes into a corner with Blaine standing awkwardly in front of him getting jostled about as the car lurches from side to side. "Sorry," he mutters apologetically as he stands on another mans foot. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says again as he bumps a woman laden down with bags.

"Here." Kurt reaches out, grabbing ahold of Blaine's belt buckle and tugging him into the V of his legs. "Better," he says with a shy smile, arms coming to circle Blaine's waist who doesn't quite know where to look but finds himself irresistibly drawn to Kurt's searching, questioning blue eyes.

The heat in the carriage becomes almost unbearable when Kurt subconsciously licks his lips, and Blaine can't help but bring one arm up to rest over his shoulders, fingers pressing into his back lightly as they continue to gaze at one another. It seems an impossibly long ride back to Bushwick, and when Kurt leans up to nuzzle in under Blaine's jaw, it's all he can do not to whimper out loud. "I wish I could kiss you right now."

Blaine can only nod, frightened of the noise that will escape him if he tries to vocalize anything, and he swallows hard, hoping against hope that he can hold out two more stops before ravishing Kurt completely.

"I could, of course," Kurt carries on softly, making Blaine lean in closer to hear. "But I don't think I'd be able to stop, and when the train reached the end of the line we'd still be making out in the corner."

Blaine leans closer still, bringing his lips to tickle at Kurt's ear as he whispers "You're trouble," and pulls back, eyes dark and face serious, turning Kurt on more than he ever thought possible in a cramped subway carriage, but god, hearing Blaine's voice like that- dark, hot and heavy with lust thrills him intensely. Finally, finally the train pulls into their stop and they all but sprint up the stairs and out into the night where Kurt pushes Blaine forcibly into a darkened shop doorway, kissing him hard, desperate and rough as they both groan in pleasure. Blaine fists his hands into Kurt's hair, sliding his tongue into his mouth and whimpering loudly at the feel of Kurt's hands grabbing his ass. Certainly no one has ever done that before but holy shit it feels good. Lust like this is new to both of them, arousal which is solely someone else's doing and not their own has them trembling with excitement and anticipation, but also has Blaine pulling back before his judgement becomes too clouded. "No," he murmurs against Kurt's lips which are parted, wet and swollen with kisses. "I mean...yes but... Ugh. Come on. I'll walk you home."

He knows he's gone about it all wrong when he feels Kurt become tense and guarded next to him, pulling back slightly when he tries to reach for his hand. "I didn't mean..." he starts, expecting to be cut off by anger or yelling, but to his surprise, Kurt is waiting patiently, listening. "Oh. Uh...I was expecting you to yell."

"Why would I yell?" Kurt asks in confusion as they continue to walk. "You started to say something, to explain."

"Most people talk over me or yell whenever I try and explain myself."

"I'm not most people."

"No, you're not," Blaine agrees happily. "Look, Kurt. I didn't mean no, get lost, or no, I don't like this because...well...it's quite the opposite actually. But in a shop doorway, when I've just been riding the subway pressed up against you like that...it's hard." He laughs when Kurt snorts, and blushes for good measure. "Yeah, yeah. Look, what I mean is I want to, but..."

"Time and a place."

"Yeah. And if I hadn't stopped it I'd now be walking you home in sticky wet underwear."

"It's okay," Kurt says, coming to rest in a doorway which Blaine recognizes as his building. "I'm sorry I got a bit tense. I guess this is new to both of us."

"It is, and I'm kinda glad, that we can figure it out together."

"Me too." Kurt smiles at him, genuine, open and honest and Blaine knows that all is well once more.

"I love kissing you," he blurts, not really caring how ridiculous he sounds. "I could kiss you forever."

"Hmm, that'd be nice," Kurt says quietly, closing his eyes blissfully as he loops his arms over Blaine's shoulders. "Kiss me now?"

And he's barely finished his sentence before Blaine is kissing him once more, slower this time, teasing with his tongue and making Kurt think that there's possibly no better feeling than Blaine smiling against his lips before running his tongue into his mouth once more, pressing his body and obvious arousal against him. Kurt breaks the kiss, moving to kiss just above Blaine's collar. "You coming inside?"

Blaine stares at his shoes. "Um...I don't think I should."

"Why?"

And there's no anger again, no accusation, just a genuine curiosity which makes Blaine unafraid to speak his mind. "Because I don't think it's fair to Rachel."

"You don't know Rachel."

"I know, but from what you said, she's not in a great place- which is understandable- and I don't really think it's fair to just walk in with me unannounced and proceed right to your bedroom."

"My god," Kurt whispers, running a hand over his cheek. "You're adorable."

"I don't know about that. If your place was empty I'd be up there like a shot."

Kurt laughs softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "It's probably best. I don't think we're ready for too much to happen...and of course...that just means we'll have to go on another date."

"I like the sound of that," Blaine smiles.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

"I work on Saturday until seven, other than that, nothing."

"Keep it that way," Kurt murmurs against his lips. "Let me cook you dinner. Rachel is going home anyway, you can sleepover and we can spend Sunday together."

"Perfect," Blaine grins, unable to resist stealing another kiss. "Text me your exact address so I don't get lost."

"I will."

"Goodnight," Blaine whispers, kissing his lips once more before turning and walking away.

Blaine isn't even halfway to the subway when his phone buzzes with a text.

_I'm texting you, just because I can._

**And I'm texting back, just because I can.**

_Text me when you're home safe?_

**I will do.**

And he does, the second he's through the door and flopped happily onto the couch, relieved to find the apartment empty and totally forgetting about his self made promise to tell Kurt about their Vegas nuptials. It's only seconds before the reply comes which has Blaine kicking his feet in happiness.

_I'm glad you're back okay. Thank you for a wonderful date. Tonight will stay with me always._

**Same. You know, I'm sorely regretting my decision to be the perfect gentleman. We could be...**

_We could be drinking tea while Rachel forces us to listen to her monologue forclassical theatre class,_Kurt texts back. _Which is what I'm doing right now. Hey, when you come on Saturday, don't bring pajamas._

Blaine is just wondering what in the world to reply with when Kurt beats him to it. _OMG, Blaine I'm so sorry! That sounded...wrong. Well, not wrong but...it's just that I have Star Wars pajamas enough for the both of us. I don't think we're quite at *that* stage yet._

_I'm blushing._

**You should be. I've never been propositioned like that, Mr. Hummel. I'm shocked. Shocked and appalled. *crosses legs primly***

_Blaine?_

**Kurt?**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**:-* Goodnight. Thank you for making me so happy xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

"He's here!" Kurt squeaks to himself as soon as the bell sounds on Saturday night. He buzzes Blaine into the building, dancing his way over to the front door and pulling it open excitedly. "You're here!"

Blaine stands the other side of the door, laughing, with his cheeks flushed from having speed walked all the way from work. "I'm here." And without a moments hesitation, he leans in and kisses Kurt on the lips, who steps closer to wind his arms around his waist and sigh happily.

"I might have been waiting for that since Tuesday," he whispers as they part.

"Same," Blaine replies, eyes still closed as he nuzzles softly against Kurt's cheek. "Oh. I uh..." he stammers, suddenly remembering as he offers a bunch of flowers to Kurt and blushes furiously. "For you."

"Blaine!" Kurt squeaks, now completely unable to even attempt to play it cool. "I've...you...you got me flowers!"

"Is that wrong?" Blaine asks in confusion. "I didn't know if it was the done thing, getting another guy flowers. But...well...Santana said you'd probably appreciate it...and she seemed genuine..."

"If I gave you flowers, would you like it?" Kurt asks, looking up from where his nose is buried in the scent of yellow and red roses.

"You could give me a slap and I'd like it," Blaine confesses.

"Kinky."

"Oh! No! No, no I didn't mean..."

"I was joking, Blaine," Kurt reassures, kissing his burning cheek. "And I love the flowers. Come inside. Dinner's nearly ready."

Blaine follows meekly into the apartment, grateful when Kurt takes his jacket and saves him from wondering where to put it. He takes Blaine's small overnight bag too, opening a door and throwing it into what Blaine assumes (hopes) is Kurt's bedroom before heading into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. "So I didn't know what to make."

Blaine, still panicking about whether or not he should remove his shoes and wondering why there's no manual about such matters, barely hears what's being said and just 'hmm's' his vague agreement before peeking into the kitchen and noticing Kurt is just in socked feet, so he follows suit.

"I should have asked if you were vegetarian or worse...vegan, as Rachel is. But I didn't, and then it was too late to text because you were working. So I panicked for a good couple of hours," Kurt rambles, laughing self deprecatingly as he stirs a pot. "Before remembering you ate a hot dog on Tuesday. So I went with spaghetti and meatballs. I hope that's okay? It's just...I know how to cook that...it was my grandma's recipe and..."

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice comes soft and sweet, right over Kurt's shoulder and he turns to find himself immediately in his embrace.

"Yeah?"

"Relax. I have been counting down the hours until I can be with you again, I couldn't care less if you've only prepared toast. As it is, meatballs are my favorite...though I am panicking internally about how to eat spaghetti in front of you without spilling sauce on my shirt."

"You could..." Kurt starts with a sly smile, tracing his fingers over the buttons on Blaine's shirt. "You could always take it off."

"That is...that's...I don't..."

"I'm teasing you."

"I knew that," Blaine says airily, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Yeah. I totally knew that."

"Sit," Kurt says, laughing as he guides Blaine back into the living room and directs him to the small table. "I'll bring it right out."

The meal goes well. Blaine is appreciative of the food and has to hold back and remember his table manners to stop himself from devouring it all in record time. Kurt is happy to watch Blaine eat, and they answer one another's questions about their favorite movies, music and books, surprised and delighted to find they share many similarities.

"So where do you work?" Blaine asks as he pushes his now empty plate to one side and settles back in his chair. "You mentioned a job."

"In a bakery on Linden street," Kurt says with a smile. "It's cute. I work the counter and occasionally make cookies. It's a small place, there's only Marcy- the owner- me and two other part time staff. You?"

"In a record store. It's down on Jefferson."

"A record store as in cd's?"

"No!" Blaine gasps in mock horror, making Kurt laugh. "As in rare vinyl, sheet music, a few instruments...it's nice. I like it there."

"You have a lot of friends there?"

"Um..." he pauses, fiddling with his napkin. "Not really. A few, I guess. I don't know. I have um...a problem believing people genuinely want to be friends with me. Santana says they do, but I'm not so sure. I play squash with one of them...and occasionally I'll get a beer with them after work... Sam...one of the guys...he's nice. A bit strange, but nice."

"Why do you think people wouldn't want to be friends with you?" Kurt asks softly. "You do know that's not the case here, right?"

"Yes, I do," he reassures quickly. "I mean, I still find it hard to believe, but yes, I know you like me. I just keep having to pinch myself," he says with a shy grin which sends Kurt's heart fluttering. "I just...I've never had much confidence in myself and that's only got worse as I've gotten older. Um...growing up I...I was always hearing from my parents what a disappointment I was compared to my brother, how much I had let everyone down and...and...well, it's hard to move past that, I guess."

Reaching across the small table, Kurt takes Blaine's hand, surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation. He runs his thumb over the back of his hand in what he hopes is a soothing manner as his eyes search into Blaine's for more answers. "Because you're gay?" he asks. "Is that why they said that stuff to you?"

"No," he says with a small shake of his head. "Cooper...my brother...is eleven years older than me. He's a doctor. We've both always been straight A students, but my parents are incredibly strict. If I scored ninety eight on a test my dad would demand to know why it wasn't a straight hundred, and I'd be made to study more at home, then he'd set his own test for me to do. Cooper would have gotten a hundred. You can only imagine the disappointment I caused when I announced my career intentions."

"Being a teacher is a very noble profession, Blaine."

"I know, but to them, it's a woman's job," he says with a small nod. "As for the gay thing...uh...they don't know. No one knows."

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt asks, astounded.

"Well, no one in my family."

"You haven't told them?"

"They would disown me," Blaine tells the table. "I know, I know. I'm weak. But...they're my family, you know?" he implores, looking up at Kurt with wide, worried eyes. "They may be pretty shitty at times, and their expectations are high but...but...well I guess that's it. I'm enough of a disappointment already without telling them I'm gay too."

"Do you think you'll ever tell them?" Kurt asks, feeling suddenly hesitant at becoming involved.

"I will," Blaine nods firmly. "I just didn't because I didn't even have a love life to speak of. But I know that one day I'll meet someone really special," he says, suddenly unable to look at Kurt as he turns a brilliant shade of scarlet. "Someone who captures my heart and I'll want to take him home, look them in the eye and say 'mom, dad, this is the guy I love.'"

"And what if they disown you then? Make you choose?"

"I know what my choice would be," Blaine answers boldly as his hazel eyes lock on Kurt's and hold his gaze. "I want to love, and be loved."

Kurt breaks the moment, shifting in his seat to reach for the half empty bottle of red and refilling their glasses- managing to distract his addled brain from wanting to jump Blaine there and then and simultaneously begging him to let him be his one true love.

"So that's me," Blaine says quietly, trying to fill the silence. "Weak, fearful and pathetic."

"Actually, I think you rather brave," Kurt says lightly before sipping at his wine. "And I understand why you haven't come out yet. I do. Are your parents religious?"

"Very."

"And strict."

"Extremely."

"But you get along okay, or...?"

"I rarely see them," Blaine shrugs. "And I think it suits all of us that way. I chose to board at school, I went home for the holidays but always did camp counseling in the summer. Then I moved here with Santana and we kissed Ohio goodbye. I've not been back. They've visited once, took me out for lunch- though they were in the city for a whole weekend."

"Wait a minute...Ohio?" Kurt asks, his whole face lighting up. "Where?"

"Westerville."

"No way!" he cries excitedly. "I'm from Lima! Oh Blaine that's so cool! We can fly home together for thanksgiving!"

"Uh...it's only June second."

"I know, but..." Kurt stops. "Sorry. Yeah." Adding a small laugh for good measure he stands and gathers the plates. "Way ahead of myself."

"No, no, it wasn't that," Blaine stammers, tripping over his own legs in his haste to chase after Kurt who has now taken refuge in the kitchen. "Please," he begs. Taking the plates from Kurt and setting them on the counter, he turns, taking him in his arms and hugging his stiff, unyielding body tight. "You shocked me, yes. But...still knowing you at thanksgiving is not an unpleasant thought at all. Going home, however, is. Please, I'm sorry if I upset you."

"You didn't," Kurt says sorrowfully, shaking his head and finally relaxing into Blaine's embrace. "I completely embarrassed myself and didn't know how to handle it. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"I guess this is a learning curve for both of us, huh?"

"Yeah," Kurt nods over his shoulder, unwilling as always to let go. "I tend to push people away when I don't know how to handle my own thoughts or emotions. You should maybe be forewarned."

"And I tend to wallow in self pity and despair," Blaine murmurs into his hair. "What a team."

"I understand, you know," Kurt says, pulling back slightly to look into Blaine's eyes, keeping his arms locked around his neck. "About your parents. And I'll help you...if you want. If you...well...I'm just here for you, okay? Don't think you have to go through it alone, if you decide to tell them."

"I think I'd really like you by my side for that," Blaine says, smiling sweetly before kissing Kurt tenderly and drawing him close for another hug, ignoring his wildly fearful heartbeat which tells him he's just basically professed his love for a near stranger...to whom he is also, coincidentally, married.

Shit.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Kurt asks, so close to the tantalising skin of Blaine's neck it's all he can do not to run his tongue out and taste.

"Yes please," Blaine answers, mercifully distracted from his thoughts once more.

"Um...couch? Or we could...um...we could...I do have quite an awesome tv in my room," he blurts, cheeks pink as he stares at the floor.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Blaine grins, suddenly not fearful at all but eager to be lying back in bed with this beautiful man in his arms once more.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Kurt grins back, taking his hand and leading him to the door he had opened earlier. "I kinda took the liberty of...well...you'll see."

Flipping the light, he turns to Blaine with a hopeful, shy smile, who stays in the doorway to survey the room. It is much smaller than Blaine's own, with hardly any room either side of the bed, just two small nightstands wedged into the gaps between the bed and the walls. On the opposite wall is a door leading to a closet and two chests of drawers, and mounted on the wall above them is a large tv. Small as the room is though, Kurt has styled it magnificently. The decor is soft grays accented with splashes of color, while the sheets and comforter on the bed are black and gray. A string of blue fairy lights are strung across the wall behind the headboard, two pairs of pajamas are folded neatly on the pillows and sodas and a large bucket of popcorn are sitting on the nightstand, with Blaine's bag set at the foot of the bed.

The bed.

For Blaine and Kurt to share. Again.

Groaning, Blaine bites his lip hard and wills himself to keep his mind on the movie rather than the thought of Kurt lying in his arms once more, but it's proving impossible, especially when Kurt tugs him over to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"You okay?" he asks in what he hopes is not a patronising manner. "You freaking out on me?"

"No, no," Blaine says hastily, then blurts "I'm really excited about being in bed with you again. Feeling you pressed against me... Shit!"

"Oh my god," Kurt laughs, and ignoring the look of embarrassed horror on Blaine's face, climbs into his lap and straddles him. "You're so adorable. And if I may say...I feel exactly the same."

"You do?"

"Yes," he whispers, grinding his ass down into Blaine's lap for good measure. "But before we end up making out and grinding against each other, do you want to get changed and pick a movie? I feel we should at least try and keep up the pretence."

"Sure, why not?" he laughs, but is unable to resist planting a kiss to those irresistible lips before they move to change.

The Wizard of Oz plays on the screen but Kurt and Blaine pay it no attention as they curl happily under the covers, Kurt with his arm draped over Blaine's waist and head resting happily on his chest. "There's so much I want to ask you," he murmurs softly, tracing the outline of Darth Vader's face with one finger.

"Mmmm, same," Blaine agrees, his eyes closed in pleasure at the feeling of Kurt's finger skimming close to his nipples over the top of the fabric. "You can ask, if you want?"

"Okay. We'll take it in turns. You start."

"Um..." Blaine decides to start easy. "Celebrity crush?"

"Tom Hiddleston. You?"

"Tom Hardy."

"Yeah, I see it. Favorite song?"

Blaine answers without a seconds hesitation. "Come What May, from Moulin Rouge."

"Really?" Kurt lets out in a squeaky yell as he sits. "Oh my god! Me too! Me too! And it's like...not many people would even think of it."

"I know, right?" Blaine returns, just as excited. "But to me, it's the most beautiful love song ever. It's just perfect. It speaks to me. It speaks of a love I hope to find."

Blaine isn't quite sure of the noise that next escapes Kurt, but it sounds like a small 'eep' of excitement as he lies down again and buries his head tight into Blaine's side in a desperate attempt to hide his grin, while Blaine himself beams at the ceiling. "Okay, my turn again. Uh...favorite color?"

"I don't know," Kurt says, emerging from his hiding place to prop himself on one elbow and gaze down at him. "Sort of amber-honey-hazely-brown?"

"What?" Blaine laughs. "What kind of color even is that?"

"The color of your eyes," Kurt says, biting his lip as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.

"Oh." And those brilliant, mesmerizing eyes grow wide as Blaine realizes, then close at the feel of Kurt's mouth on his, moving gently, sweetly before pulling back with a smile. "Oh," he repeats softly.

"My turn," Kurt tells him with a shy grin, pleased at the effect he's caused. "Can I ask..." he starts, drawing Blaine close to his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Do you hate yourself?"

There is a long pause, during which Kurt takes ahold of the hand resting loosely between them and squeezes Blaine's fingers softly. He doesn't push at all, just watches as Blaine stares down at their hands and takes a moment to formulate his answer.

"No," he eventually returns without looking up. "Not anymore. I think it's fair to say that I don't really like myself very much, but I'm trying. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Kurt says quietly, pressing his lips to his temple. "Yes it does."

"Moving here is what made the difference. More freedom to express myself and all that. I used to live almost entirely locked away in my own world of self torment, and Santana was the only chink of light. But this place, this city...it's alive, vibrant. It urges you to live, to seize the moment and enjoy because it's moving so fast that if you don't grab every opportunity with both hands then life will pass you by. Like with us."

Kurt watches, mesmerized as Blaine sits up, eyes dancing and lively as he takes both Kurt's hands in his.

"If we had met in Ohio I would never, in a million years have asked you on a date. If you had asked me I would have turned you down flat and regretted it for all eternity. But here...I don't know. It makes me think... 'act, speak, now, before he walks away.' I couldn't watch you slip from my grasp."

"I'm glad," Kurt smiles, shuffling so he's sitting back against the headboard but still holding Blaine's hand. "Because I don't think I could ever have asked you out. Too afraid of rejection. And I'm glad you don't hate yourself too...I just hope you learn to like yourself a little more because...well... because you're wonderful."

"I don't know about that."

"Well I do," Kurt says firmly. "Tell me one thing you like about your personality."

"Uh..." Blaine reddens but doesn't shy away. "I think I'm quite kind?"

"You're very kind," Kurt corrects. "Your favorite physical feature?"

"Well as of five minutes ago, my eyes," Blaine laughs. "Before that...I like my teeth."

"I like your teeth too," Kurt smiles. "I'd like to lick your teeth."

Blaine laughs loudly, showing off his perfectly even white teeth, eyes crinkling as he throws his head back. "You would not."

"I would," Kurt says, joining him in laughter.

"Go on then," he chuckles, moving closer. "I dare you to lick my teeth."

He grins widely, shrieking in disbelief when Kurt leans in and runs his tongue over Blaine's teeth before tugging him into a fierce kiss, shifting until he can pull Blaine on top of him.

"I can't believe you just did that," Blaine gasps, pulling back to stare down at Kurt, whose lips are red and inviting, begging to be kissed once more, so Blaine does just that, running his tongue into Kurt's mouth and finding his teeth on purpose, licking across them and smiling at the feel of Kurt's laugh reverberating through him. "You are so sexy," he murmurs, kissing in under Kurt's jaw as he arches his neck willingly. "Even licking your damn teeth turns me on, just because it's you."

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?" Blaine doesn't stop his kisses, nipping lightly at Kurt's neck before running his tongue over the pink marks and groaning at the feel of all his blood rushing south at an alarmingly fast pace.

"Would you take your shirt off?"

"Yes...but can I just use your bathroom first? Before this gets too far for me to be able to...Umm..."

"Of course," Kurt chuckles, "door nearest the kitchen."

Blaine returns to a shirtless Kurt lying face down on the bed, covers resting loosely at his hips. He hears Blaine enter the room and close the door softly behind him, but doesn't turn around- having purposely laid this way in an attempt to try and calm his growing arousal- hoping that for once he can make this last. It's all ruined however, when a silent and stealthy Blaine manages to place the softest of kisses to his shoulder before pressing his bare chest to Kurt's back, hands sliding under to caress his smooth skin.

"Oh my god," Kurt breathes, his mouth hanging open in a small gasp of pleasure at the feeling of Blaine's body, hot and heavy, pressing against him. "That feels so good."

"Holy shit yes it does," Blaine rushes out, directly into Kurt's ear as he presses himself closer and allows his hands to roam. He can feel Kurt's heart beating wildly in his chest- which comforts Blaine as he knows he's the same. His skin feels warm and smooth, his muscles sculpted yet soft when Blaine shifts them both onto their sides slightly to run his hand over Kurt's stomach, fingers dipping ever so slightly under the waistband of his pajamas which is rewarded with the feel of fluttering stomach muscles and a contented moan.

Kurt doesn't know whether to push forward or back. The touch of Blaine's hand over his bare chest is deeply erotic for him, but the solid, comforting weight of his body half on top of him makes him whine in pleasure. He knows without looking that Blaine has chest hair- an idea he never found appealing but which suddenly seems like the sexiest thing in the entire world. And he also knows even through pajama pants and with the heavy weight of a comforter between them, that Blaine is as hard as a rock and if Kurt kicks the covers away- which he does- then Blaine's cock will slot right in between the cheeks of his ass.

"Fuck," Blaine moans, kissing Kurt's shoulder once more and unwittingly grinding against him. "Kurt... Can I...?"

"Yes," comes the ragged response, and taking Blaine's hand, he moves it to the bulging outline of his cock, biting his lip hard at the first ever feeling of another hand on him, even if it is shaking with nerves and palming him gently through the fabric of his pants.

"Oh...oh..." Blaine says softly as he runs his hand experimentally over Kurt who pushes forward, one hand resting over Blaine's and encouraging him to squeeze.

Blaine groans again, his breath coming hot and heavy on the back of Kurt's neck as suddenly his nerves become replaced by all out want. He wants more, needs more. He wants everything, though he knows he'd never last, but most of all, he wants to be naked with Kurt.

"Do you...?" he starts, but Kurt cuts him off, knowing full well what's being asked.

"Yes."

Pants are removed in record time, and although both are shy, neither one feels uncomfortable. Far from it in fact, everything feels so right, as if being this intimate with each other was meant to be.

"There's uh...y'know...uh...lube in that drawer," Kurt says with a blush. "Not for...but for..."

Blaine nods, all wide eyed wonderment and briefly pondering exactly how far Kurt has gone in his solo adventures, because certainly he's never contemplated actually purchasing lube. But he rolls away to reach in the drawer and close his shaking hand around the bottle.

"Cute tush."

Laughing loudly, Blaine turns back to find Kurt- cheeks pink and eyes blown dark, lying on his side smiling. "I really wanna touch you," he says, voice barely above a whisper as Blaine smiles back at him. "Can I?"

"Yeah." Shuffling closer, Blaine drops the sweetest of kisses to Kurt's cheek, so tender and sincere it almost brings tears to those blue eyes, but he looks down instead to where their bodies are almost meeting. "Here," Blaine says, pressing the bottle into his hand. "Please do something...anything...because I have no idea what I'm doing."

"And you think I do?" Kurt asks with a quiet laugh. Wrapping one arm around the back of Blaine's neck, his fingers wind into the soft dark curls which have broken away from the sticky gel- in fact the entirety of Blaine's head is now covered in thick curly hair which takes Kurt by surprise as he studies him. "You are so incredibly beautiful," he whispers, leaning in to kiss him slowly, cupping his jaw gently. Blaine relaxes under the touch of his lips once more, boldly allowing his arm to fall across Kurt's waist, his hand resting on the swell of his ass. Both break the kiss to gasp as their cocks twitch in anticipation and touch together, the thrill sending sparks through both and making Blaine pull Kurt tighter to him, moaning loudly again which Kurt swallows with a kiss.

Slowly, a shaking hand from each reaches down to touch, their eyes locked on one another, though Kurt's flutter closed at the feeling of Blaine's hand on him, holding his cock firmly yet gently, almost reverently. "Fuck me," he whispers.

"Not this time."

And Kurt laughs, eyes opening to find Blaine grinning, pleased with himself for his witty remark. "You know just how to woo a man, Anderson," he says, still laughing as he leans in for another kiss. "Here." Snapping open the lid, he pours lube into Blaine's hand and then his own, and this time he keeps his eyes open, feeling satisfied when he starts to pump Blaine's cock and is rewarded with a loud groan of pleasure.

"Fuck me!"

"Dare I say it," Kurt gasps as Blaine mimicks the action on him. "But not this...oh...time."

"Kurt," Blaine moans brokenly, sliding his free hand into his soft brown hair as he picks up the pace. "Oh my god...Kurt..."

"Mmpfff," is all Kurt manages before his lips are captured in a searing kiss, their knuckles knocking together as their hands work over one another, bringing each other closer and closer to the edge.

"Close," Blaine gasps around Kurt's tongue, feeling- even in the throes of passion- that some sort of warning would be polite.

"Not yet," Kurt says, pulling back abruptly and spinning around in his embrace. "Like this," he says, guiding Blaine until his cock nestles snugly between his ass cheeks.

"Holy shit." Kissing the back of Kurt's neck, Blaine reaches around to continue his ministrations on Kurt's cock, and is astounded at how natural it feels to drive his hips back and forth, dick sliding with just the perfect amount of friction as both dispense with any decorum and give in to wild lust.

"Fucking hell, Blaine!"

"I know, shit. Your ass is so hot. So..."

"Blaine..." And Kurt comes, crying out loudly as he spills so hard over Blaine's hand he's left seeing stars.

"Yes," Blaine murmurs, still thrusting behind him. "Yes Kurt...so hot...fuck," and he comes too, shooting streaks of white onto Kurt's lower back and shuddering hard. They lie together, rocking gently as the waves of pleasure slowly die away and their breathing returns to normal. Kurt stares out the window at the night sky, an ear splitting grin on his face which only gets wider still when he feels Blaine tenderly wiping at his back with tissues before finding his hand and cleaning that too.

"Thanks."

"I've got to stop doing this," he murmurs, his damp hair pressing into Kurt's neck as he closes his eyes.

Kurt goes tense immediately, wriggling out of the firm hold Blaine has on his waist. "Excuse me?"

"This. I have to stop."

"Wow. Okay." Sitting back against the headboard, his cheeks pink with indignation and shame, Kurt folds his hands into his lap and clears his throat. "Um...Okay. Um...Would you mind telling me why?"

"It's not fair to you, that's why," Blaine says, sitting sideways to him and crossing his legs under him. He reaches for Kurt's hand but it is swiftly retracted and both end up folding their arms defensively across their chests.

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Kurt asks, and he hates the way he can hear tears in his voice. "Nothing has happened that hasn't been very much wanted- on both our parts, I thought."

"Kurt?" Blaine asks quietly, "How would you feel if I told you that..."

"If you told me what?"

Blaine shakes his head, pushing all thoughts of a confession to the back of his mind when he sees the pain etched on Kurt's face. He can't. He doesn't know when he will be able to, but he knows he can't right now. So he says what he really wants to say instead, hoping that one day, he'll find the courage he needs.

"How would you feel if I told you I was dating somebody else?"

Clearly, judging by the look on Kurt's face, this was the wrong way to go about things, but he doesn't quite know how to clarify either, and he winces when Kurt stares at his own knees and speaks in a trembling voice. "I see. Well. It's up to you, I guess."

"But how would you feel?" Blaine perseveres.

"Fine," he says airily. "Your choice. I'll admit I'm surprised but y'know...whatever."

"Seriously?" Blaine asks, incredulous. "That's all you've got to say? It's fine?"

"Well what do you want me to say?" Kurt cries as he looks up and to Blaine's horror, he sees tears shimmering in his eyes.

"I want you to say no! No it's not okay! I want you to tell me I'm not allowed to date anyone except you!"

"Wait a second...You're not dating anyone else?"

"No! Why would you think I'd do that?"

"Because you said you were!"

"No I didn't! I asked how you'd feel if I was, that's all. There's a difference."

"Blaine...Just please...for the love of god, tell me what it is you're trying to say, because right now my heart is in my mouth and beating madly, I can hardly breathe and my palms are sweaty...and I hate having sweaty palms."

"I don't want to date anyone else. I just want you. Only you." Blaine says, a huge grin forming on his face as he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Because I'm ridiculous."

"Yes you are but you're adorable, and Blaine, I don't want anyone else either. At all." And he bites his lip hard to keep from blurting 'Ever.'

"I didn't go about that very well, did I?"

"No. You did not," Kurt snaps, but he holds his arms out and is thrilled when Blaine falls happily against him.

"Sorry."

"I'll forgive you, seeing as it's you."

"That was incredible, wasn't it?"

"Which part, Blaine? The bizarre way you went about telling me you'd like me to be your one and only, or the uh...the uh...y'know?"

"Yeah, that part. Forget the one and only bit."

"Blaine!"

"No, no, don't forget it," Blaine cries, sitting up in alarm. "That's not what I...no. Kurt, please do not forget that you are my one and only...and by the way, I love how that sounds. Kurt Hummel, my one and only."

"Blaine Anderson, my beau," Kurt grins, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "By the way, your hair is wild."

"Ugh. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, please. It's wonderful. It's a side no one else gets to see."

"It's funny, isn't it? How this feels so right?"

"I know," Kurt agrees. "There was me, telling you I'd provide pajamas as we weren't at that stage yet... and now..."

"I didn't know it would be like this," Blaine says, resting his chin on Kurt's chest to look up at him. "I thought that the first time I was naked with someone would be just awkward and embarrassing."

"Same. And while I'm not ready to parade around the room like it, I have to admit that being with you, like this, feels perfect. As if this is where we belong."

"Maybe it is," Blaine whispers, leaning up to kiss at his lips.

"I kinda really hope so." Overwhelmed, they cuddle together in the silence, Kurt's hand smoothing over Blaine's shoulder until he notices his eyes becoming heavy. "C'mon. Let's turn in. You want some water?"

"Yes please," Blaine says, stretching before moving reluctantly to the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna use the bathroom," he says, pulling on the wrong pajama pants and tossing the other pair to Kurt. "And as you said, I'm not quite at the walking around with nothing on stage yet."

But when they join together under the covers once more, both are naked, sighing happily as Kurt becomes big spoon and slides in behind Blaine. "Good job I'm so tired, because this position is just..."

"I know," Blaine grins into the dark. "Uh..Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a really nice time tonight. Not just the...y'know...but the talking. It helped. A lot. I love being with you. It's like I can just be me, and you don't even mind."

"Of course I don't mind," Kurt tells him as he kisses behind his ear. "I want you to be yourself because that's the person I'm f..." Stopping abruptly, Kurt clears his throat, assuming Blaine hasn't noticed. "That's the person I really like, the one that makes me happy."

But Blaine is no fool, and lies there with Kurt's arms wrapped around him, smiling widely and forgetting completely about the sheer madness of their situation, focusing instead on the here and now and how he too, is falling for Kurt.

"Kurt, I know you said you push people away, but please don't ever do that to me. I just want to be with you. I might be an awkward, bumbling fool but my heart is sincere."

"I know that. I guess it stems from a fear of losing those closest to me. I lost my mom when I was seven, and now Finn...I just kinda...push people away before I can get hurt. I've never done this before, Blaine. I've never had a relationship and neither have you. I can't promise I won't push you away, but I can promise I'll try not to, because here, right now, is just where I want to be."

Raising their joined hands, Blaine kisses Kurt's fingers before closing his eyes. "Goodnight, my one and only."

A tired, sleepy laugh escapes Kurt as he tucks in tight with a kiss to Blaine's shoulder. "Goodnight my beau."


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt cracks one eye open to find Blaine curled on his side, smiling gently.

"Hey."

Kurt smiles at the rasp in Blaine's voice which tells him he hasn't been awake for long. "Hey. Sleep well?"

"The best. You?"

"Same." He shuffles closer, Blaine happy to take him in his arms and receive the long kiss to his lips, neither one caring about such trivialities as morning breath. "Do you have any plans today?"

"No. School's out so I don't have any study to do. No work..."

"So can we spend the day being really lazy?"

"I was hoping so, yes," Blaine grins. "Cause under these covers there's a body that I really want to explore."

He blushes furiously at his boldness of course, and so does Kurt- but it thrills them both and Kurt rolls on top of him, eyes widening when he feels Blaine's hardness. "Oh."

"Um..."

But Blaine is silenced into submission by a suddenly dominant and needy Kurt, who kisses him hard, feeling light headed as all his blood rushes south.

"No, no," Blaine gasps between kisses as Kurt's hand moves to touch him. "I mean yes, but I do really want to take our time. There's no rush, Kurt. I'm not going anywhere, and neither is my dick."

Kurt laughs loudly, rolling onto his side and folding his arms behind his head. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just not entirely used to having all this," he gestures down Blaine's body, "at my disposal."

"Neither am I, and believe me, there is a very large part of me that wants to do anything and everything with you right now. But so far, I've not been all that great at lasting very long and I'd like to just take my time and really make it worthwhile for both of us."

"Take things at our pace and no one elses?"

"Exactly."

""Okay," Kurt agrees readily. "So why don't we grab some coffee and bagels and watch tv for a while?"

"Can we stay naked?"

"Yes."

"Can my hands wander a little if they want to?"

"If they feel the need," Kurt grins.

"Entirely of their own volition of course," Blaine says with a straight face.

"Of course."

And so they while away the morning, sharing lazy kisses and gentle touches, daring to allow tongues and lips to travel over soft stomachs and hard nipples, along collar bones and into crooks of elbows until neither can take the long, drawn out foreplay any more.

"Shower?" Kurt asks, and a very brave and helplessly turned on Blaine smiles broadly.

"Lead the way."

Under the hot spray and in a steam filled bathroom the boys gasp into one anothers mouths as mutual hand jobs bring them to orgasm once more, with Kurt falling limply against Blaine who staggers backward slightly but clutches Kurt tight against his chest, kissing the side of his neck and beaming that blissed out smile that just refuses to move. "This is just the best." And Kurt happily murmurs his agreement.

They nap then, dressed this time in their Star Wars pajamas and waking in the late afternoon feeling refreshed. "So, I have Finn's XBox," Kurt says shyly, but is immediately pleased at the way in which Blaine's face lights up.

"Really? You wanna play?" he asks excitedly, then worries his lip between his teeth. "Or is it...y'know...I mean, I understand."

"No actually, it's fine," Kurt smiles before hanging off the edge of the bed to rummage under it. "I haven't played it since he...but I'd like to. I just didn't want to play it alone, and Rachel never took an interest in it so I didn't ask her. You should be warned though, I'm quite good."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine asks with a raised eyebrow. "Well so am I. I've been alone a lot, shut away in my room with only porn or XBox for company. I've had a lot of practise."

"In that case I cannot wait until we start having sex," Kurt quips- regretting it almost immediately but relaxing once more when Blaine leans across and kisses him.

"Bring it, Hummel," he whispers against his lips.

"We'll start with the video games," Kurt says, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. "Halo or Warcraft?"

"Halo."

A tired yet happy Rachel Berry trudges wearily up the stairs, unlocking the door to her small, homey apartment, smiling at the thought of being home and wondering if Kurt will be there. She assumes by the silence he must be out- she's pretty sure he said something about seeing Vegas boy this weekend. Throwing her bag onto the couch, she walks to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge then stopping dead, looking up sharply toward Kurt's closed bedroom door.

"That's it! There, right there!" Kurt cries loudly. "Oh my God! Yes!"

Rachel raises one eyebrow and reaches for the carrot sticks, dropping them all over the floor when a second, slightly deeper voice is heard.

"Take it, Kurt, take it! Yes!"

"No, stop it! That hurts."

"It doesn't hurt," the voice scoffs. "You love it, you know you do. Take it like a man, Hummel!"

"No, please no!" Kurt whimpers and that's when Rachel throws open his door, phone in hand and finger paused over the number nine to come face to face with Kurt and Vegas boy sitting crosslegged on his bed, XBox controllers in hand and staring at her with open mouths.

"Oh," she says, red faced. "I thought you were being raped."

"Well hello, Rachel. Welcome home. And no, Blaine was just beating me at Halo, that's all."

"Oh. Well...Sorry. I'll just be..." she mumbles, and closes the door before running into her own room and slamming the door.

After hiding for a good twenty minutes, Rachel eventually emerges- remembering the spilled carrot sticks and her bag flung on the couch. She decides to make tea by way of an apology, and is just waiting for the water to boil when she hears Kurt clear his throat behind her.

"Hey."

"Kurt, I'm so..."

"Hush. It's sweet that you care. Now come here," he says, picking her up and squeezing tight. "How was your visit?"

"Good," Rachel nods even though her eyes fill with tears. "Yeah. I mean, it's always hard, going back, but I think I really needed that time with my dads. And obviously you had fun in my absence," she says with a brave smile.

"Yeah," Kurt says bashfully, then peeks out into the living room. "C'mere," he says, holding out his hand and a very timid and shy Blaine appears at his side. "Blaine Anderson, meet Rachel Berry, my best friend and roommate. Rachel, this is Blaine... My boyfriend," he tells her chest swelling with pride as he grins broadly. "I have a boyfriend!"

Laughing, Rachel can't resist kissing Kurt's cheek once more before shaking Blaine's hand who looks completely terrified yet proud. "Nice to finally meet you properly, Blaine," she smiles.

"Uh...yeah...likewise," he mutters, blushing of course as he stares at his own feet. "It's just a bit awkward meeting someone for the first time when you're in your pajamas," he says with a shy smile.

"You're wearing _Kurt's_ pajamas," she corrects with a pointed look at her friend, who is still beaming proudly. "I made tea. Want some?"

"Uh...actually...I'd better," Blaine stammers, gesturing towards Kurt's bedroom. "Yeah. I'll just be... Excuse me." And he hurtles out of the kitchen and into the sanctity of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Wow," Rachel says quietly. Kurt turns back to her, where she stands pouring tea into three mugs. "Did I do something?"

"No, no," he sighs sadly. "Blaine is just painfully shy...and socially awkward."

"Are you dating yourself?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Very funny. Look, this isn't easy for either of us. We've had an amazing weekend together and we're getting comfortable being together but...well that's the first time I've called him my boyfriend and I wonder if it was too much."

"I doubt it, he looked very pleased. He just took off when I mentioned the pajamas."

"Hmm. I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Okay. Here," she says, holding out two mugs of tea.

"Blaine said he didn't want any."

"He did, but he does. Trust me."

"Blaine?" Kurt knocks timidly on his own bedroom door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

Pushing open the door, Kurt sees Blaine sitting on the end of the bed, fully dressed and with his bag packed neatly at his feet. He doesn't look up but holds his head despairingly in his hands.

"Rachel made you tea," Kurt says softly, setting it on the chest of drawers before kneeling in front of him. "She said she thought you wanted some."

"I really did," he admits quietly.

"So why didn't you say so?" Kurt asks, rubbing what he hopes is a soothing hand over his knee.

"Because I don't think she liked me. I think I annoyed her."

"What?" Kurt asks, struggling to keep the shriek of incredulity from his voice. "How can you say that? She's only just met you. If anything, she will like you right away because she can obviously see how happy you're making me."

"But I was wearing your pajamas," he says, finally looking up and oh, all Kurt can see is fear and desperation in his eyes. "She thought that was wrong, I could tell."

"No she didn't," Kurt tells him firmly, trying hard not to be dismissive, knowing how upset Blaine is. "She thought it was amusing. Please, you have to trust me on this. I've known Rachel a very long time. I know her expressions, her tone, what she means as opposed to what she says... She's been waiting for me to find someone since we were in high school. I've just introduced her to my first ever boyfriend, and he's wearing my pajamas. It's pretty obvious you've been staying here. She's pleased for me and also waiting to hear all the horny details- which I will not be sharing, by the way. But that's all, Blaine. She has two gay dads. She doesn't think this is wrong at all. Far from it. She's just happy I've found you. It was just a little light teasing."

"So now I've made a total fool of myself," Blaine says in anguish. "Figures."

"No you haven't." Kurt sighs and moves closer, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck and pulling his stiff, tense body into a warm hug. "Oh Blaine. Please don't think that. Let's drink our tea then go back out there and you can meet each other properly, okay?"

"Actually, I think I'm just gonna go home," he mutters into the warmth of Kurt's neck, who immediately tenses and pulls back.

"Why?"

"Work...and stuff...yeah. And I should see Santana."

"Don't do this," Kurt says sadly, seeing right through the pretence. "School's out, you're not working until ten tomorrow morning. Please stay?" he asks, persisting when Blaine shakes his head. "Please? We can get takeout and lie on the couch watching tv, or we can go out for a walk...anything. I'm just not ready to say goodbye to you."

Blaine hesitates, hating the upset he can see on Kurt's face, and taking a deep breath he tries to make it all better. "Why don't you come home with me?" he asks. "Both of you, I mean. We...we..could still get takeout, if you wanted. And you could meet Santana."

"Really? Yeah," Kurt smiles. "That sounds really good. Are you sure that's okay?"

"I think I'll feel more comfortable getting to know Rachel if you're getting to know Santana at the same time," he admits. "Is that okay?"

"Blaine, it's more than okay," Kurt says, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for admitting that. I was starting to panic that maybe I'd pushed too far by introducing you as my boyfriend."

"That? No," Blaine laughs. "That was the best thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

Rachel needs no convincing to join them, happy to see that Blaine is trying even if he obviously finds it excruciating to be in the presence of somebody new. She asks a couple of polite questions as they head to his apartment, but he's not very forthcoming with his answers and she decides the best approach will probably be to sit tight and wait for him to relax which- for Rachel Berry- is easier said than done. Still, Kurt continues to gaze at him as if he hung the moon and the stars and that's good enough for her. They arrive at the apartment and Blaine hesitates, key in the door.

"Uh...so...Santana...my roommate. Um...I can only apologize."

"Apologize?" Rachel asks sweetly. "Why?"

"You'll see," he says mysteriously, pushing open the door and gesturing for them to go in ahead.

"Ah ha!" a voice calls from another room. "The lover returns! Can you still walk? Or sit down?"

"I have guests!" Blaine calls, as Kurt bites his lip to keep from laughing at his adorable embarrassment and Rachel politely looks away.

"Guests? You never have guests, Blaine." The voice appears then, belonging to a striking Latino girl with beautiful dark eyes and hair that Rachel assumes is Santana. She is wearing a towel only, and her hair hangs in damp tendrils to her shoulders. "You don't speak to anyone."

"Well...um..." Blaine tries to protest, and Kurt finds himself wondering why he doesn't come back with a witty retort which he knows he is more than capable of. "Uh...Rachel, Kurt, this is Santana, my roommate. Santana, meet Kurt and Rachel, his roommate. Oh! And Kurt's my boyfriend," he grins, bouncing a little on the soles of his feet.

"Wanky," she smiles darkly, glancing between the three of them. "I didn't have you down as a threesome type, Blaine."

"Oh that's not...no," he blushes, wondering why in the world he thought this introduction would be a good idea. "No. Please. Please stop talking," he begs, and to Rachel and Kurt's surprise, she laughs and hugs him tight.

"It's okay," she whispers into his ear, and Kurt feels jealousy flaring in the pit of his stomach at the way he relaxes in her arms. "I'm teasing, it's okay."

"Ahem," Kurt says loudly, stepping forward to place his hand protectively on the small of Blaine's back. "It's nice to meet you, Santana. I've heard a lot about you."

"Really? I've heard nothing about you," she says, eyes flashing with fire. "And even less about you," she sneers at Rachel.

"Be nice," Blaine warns, gesturing for Rachel to sit on the couch. "You've heard plenty about Kurt and I also told you he lives with Rachel."

"Yeah, actually, I remember you from Vegas," Rachel says as she sits. "I was thinking about coming over and making conversation after Kurt had ditched me but I didn't."

"What stopped you?"

"You're intimidating," she says simply, crossing her legs.

"I resent that accusation!"

"Resent it all you like, it's true," Rachel says. "So Blaine tells me you're both from Ohio too? Kurt and I lived in Lima."

An astounded Santana- not used to being spoken to so bluntly- gapes for a moment and blinks rapidly before perching on the arm of the couch. "Yeah," she says quietly. "Lima, actually. Heights," she adds when Rachel starts to speak. "Not him," she says, gesturing to Blaine. "Westerville- and wouldn't you just know it? We both grew up there, but then my stepdad ran off with the neighbors eighteen year old daughter and we suddenly didn't have any money so my mom and I had to move."

"Oh that's harsh," Rachel says softly. "I'm sorry."

"Meh. It is what it is," she shrugs. "I'm out of there now. Anyway. I'd better get dressed I guess. Care to come and admire my closet?" she asks, ignoring the way Blaine's eyebrows disappear into his hair in surprise.

"Sure," Rachel agrees. "You guys can decide on takeout. But remember I'm..."

"Vegan, yes Rachel, we know," Kurt says, shooing her out of the room. "Now go, leave us."

"No that's...Rachel I don't think you should..."

"Oh shut it Blaine, I'm taken," Santana snaps. "You should probably know I'm a lesbian who is totally not hitting on you and very much spoken for," she tells Rachel, who shrugs.

"Fine by me," she trills. "Completely not wanting to be hit on by anyone, man, woman or otherwise right now."

The door closes and Kurt turns to look at Blaine properly for the first time since they've entered the apartment. He looks close to tears and positively terrified, making Kurt's heart lurch in sympathy as he moves closer to him on the couch. "You okay?"

"I guess so," Blaine answers quietly. "This is just weird. It's all weird. Maybe we weren't ready to meet each other's friends?" he wonders out loud. "Too much, maybe? I don't know."

"I don't think so," Kurt answers, taking Blaine's hand gently. Really, he wants to hug him close and kiss him over and over but he can tell Blaine would run a mile so he settles for the hand holding instead. "When we're together- just us- it feels right, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." A soft smile comes onto Blaine's face and Kurt finds himself returning it as he sees Blaine's shoulders drop just a fraction.

"As if we were meant to find each other again after Vegas. If we're going to do this- and I mean really do this- we're going to meet each other's friends at some point. Better to do it now, like this, than have them accidentally stumble over one of us when we've stayed the night. An awkward encounter with Rachel on the way back from the bathroom would just about finish you," he teases gently, and Blaine agrees.

"True. But what does that mean? About doing this properly? What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugs. "I'm not really sure what I want to say because I'm too scared I'll go too far, appear too eager and you'll ditch me."

"Same," Blaine says with a laugh. "I'm frightened I'm too intense."

"I like intense," Kurt says firmly, looking deep into Blaine's eyes. "I need to know exactly where I stand or I become paranoid."

"And I just worry people don't like me."

"So tell me," Kurt urges. "Tell me how you want us to be. And I won't judge."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I want...I want to see you a lot. Like, not every day maybe, but most. And I want to talk with you every day. I want to know where you are, what you're doing. Not because I'm stalking you or I don't trust you, but just because I genuinely want to hear about your day. And I don't want you to consider anyone else for your one and only. Just me."

"Well I can certainly do that," Kurt smiles gently. "And there's nothing in that that scares me at all, Blaine. I think we're both on the same page."

"Phew," Blaine says with a breathy laugh. "That's...that's good. Good. Yeah. Good. Okay. We should decide on takeout. There's a good Thai place that delivers. Can Rachel eat Thai?"

"Hold on, that's it?" Kurt asks incredulously. "We just agree that we're both really committed to this and yet we don't even kiss?"

"Oh." Blaine looks confused, then worried. "It's not...I mean, I'd like to, but the girls are only like...there," he says, gesturing toward the still closed door. "They could see."

"You kissed me in the museum," Kurt points out, trying not to pout.

"I know but...but I think that's possibly the most courageous thing I've ever done in my life," he says, running a hand despairingly over his face. "Look, Kurt...I'm trying. Really, I am. It's just this isn't easy for me. Stuff like this...it doesn't come naturally to me. When I'm alone with you I'm just at the stage now where I can really let myself go and just 'be' with you- which is evident in the stuff we've done. But as much as I love Santana, she would never stop teasing if she happened upon us making out on the couch, and I just wouldn't know how to handle that."

"Okay," Kurt nods, trying not to let his disappointment show. "I understand. Thai is fine."

Blaine wordlessly walks to the kitchen, returning with a menu which he hands to Kurt before perching awkwardly on the edge of the couch, as far away from his boyfriend as possible. He studies him as Kurt studies the menu, knowing he's hurt him and trying to work out how to make amends. After a couple more minutes of silence, he sighs heavily, takes the menu from Kurt's hand and throwing it on the coffee table, tugs him into his darkened bedroom.

"Blaine, what are you...?" Kurt starts, but shuts up immediately when Blaine pins him up against the closed door, his face just visible in the darkness.

"Don't ever think I don't want you, or that I'm ashamed of you," he whispers, his voice dark and low in a way which makes Kurt shiver with anticipation. "Because I do, and I'm not," he says before claiming his lips in a searing kiss which leaves Kurt reeling and panting for more. "Just...be patient."

"Be patient?" Kurt cries weakly. "You kiss me like that and then ask me to be patient? You tease, Blaine Anderson. You're a complete tease."

Blaine kisses him again, crowding close and pressing his body tight to Kurt as he slides his fingers into his hair and tugs his head back, exposing his long, elegant neck which he kisses, scraping his teeth over his throat.

"Oh my god, Blaine!"

"Is that...is it okay?" Blaine asks in panic.

"Yes! Better than okay," Kurt moans, instinctively rolling his hips where he is trapped against the door. "You're all...commanding. I like it."

"Hmm."

Kurt gasps in shock as Blaine palms him over the front of his jeans. "Hmm? What does hmm mean?"

"Hmm, you do like it," he grins, lips inches from Kurt's again as he squeezes his hardening cock. "I'll have to remember that."

"No, no," Kurt begs. "Don't remember, act on it. Now."

"Nope," Blaine chuckles darkly, dropping a quick kiss to his lips. "We need to order food."

He pulls open the door- Kurt stumbling unceremoniously out of the way with a dissatisfied grunt- and walks into the living room where Rachel sits on one couch, legs neatly tucked under her, and Santana stands in the middle of the room, one hand on her hip and an astounded look on her face.

"Wanky."

"Be quiet," a now sassy and confident Blaine replies, stalking past her to the other couch. "I was loaning Kurt some books."

"Where are they then?"

"Here," comes the reply, as Kurt emerges from the room with two paperbacks in his hand. He looks immaculate, and Blaine smiles smugly, knowing that seconds ago he was falling apart behind closed doors.

"Oh."

"Let's order," Blaine says, happily sliding over for Kurt to sit next to him. "I'm starving."

Emboldened by Kurt's enthusiasm for him just being him, Blaine relaxes at last and thoroughly enjoys the evening. They eat, and he finds himself joining in the conversation and playing a real part- whereas he would normally shy away when more than one person was involved. They consider watching a movie but decide against it- the four having far too much fun in each others company to mute it with a film, so they play monopoly instead.

"Blaine is intense when we play this," Santana says as she deals the money.

"I am not!"

"You are! You're so competitive."

"You don't strike me as the competitive type, Blaine," Rachel tells him.

"Oh he can be," Santana answers for him as he blushes. "If he wants something bad enough he'll go after it with ruthless determination."

"Amen to that," Kurt says, laughing as Blaine looks up in total shock, then relaxes and smiles.

"Wank..."

"Oh enough!" Rachel says, rolling her eyes at Santana. "I don't get you. You're nice, I like you. Why do you feel the need to put on this front- pretending like you're tough and using ridiculous catchphrases? Just be yourself. I think you'll find that's more than good enough for all of us here."

"My god, you're outspoken and rude," Santana murmurs in disbelief.

"I know. Now, are you the battleship or the race car?"

*  
"I had so much fun tonight," Blaine murmurs later that night against Kurt's cheek. They are standing outside, on the pretence of looking for a cab but in reality they've been making out in the doorway for the last five minutes.

"Same," Kurt agrees, "I'm so glad you suggested coming back here. Santana is funny, and Rachel really likes her. I'm glad, because she needs more girlfriends. And also, on an entirely selfish level, I'm glad because it means we can hang out more without having to worry about them being left alone or not liking each other."

"So will I see you soon?" Blaine asks, reluctant to move his lips from where they're trailing along Kurt's jaw.

"Of course. It's my turn to take you out this time."

"No way. This whole weekend was your date."

"Then we'll go Dutch."

"No!" Blaine looks indignant. "Let me woo you."

"Haha! You can woo me if you like," Kurt says, batting his eyelashes coquettishly. "What did you have in mind?"

"Um...well...just dinner and a movie, really. Tuesday?"

"Sounds perfect," Kurt grins before they're kissing once more, mouths moving softly against one another as their tongues brush together.

"Okay, I refuse to believe it takes this long to get a cab," Santana booms as she marches down the stairs to the open door.

They pull apart quickly, and Blaine almost launches his entire self into the road, hailing the cab and holding open the door to Kurt, who kisses his cheek as he slips inside. "I'll call you later," he whispers.

"Can you tell Rachel to hurry up, please," he calls to Santana, who is eyeing him suspiciously. "We've been calling up the stairs for the last five minutes but you were obviously too busy talking."

*  
Blaine curls under the covers and flips out the light, contemplating calling Kurt himself, when his phone lights up with a text and he opens it to find a picture of his toothbrush sitting on the side of Kurt's sink. He hurriedly presses call, immediately apologizing when Kurt answers.

"I'm so sorry. I should've picked it up right away. I didn't mean to leave it."

"Blaine, relax," Kurt laughs. "Do you need it?"

"I have a spare. You can throw it out."

"Um...actually, I was going to ask if it could stay here?" Kurt says quietly, the blush evident in his voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's quite a good house guest, and it kinda makes more sense. That way if you end up sleeping over on the spur of the moment, it's here for you to use."

There is no answer from Blaine, who is now in a tangle of bed sheets as he rolls around silently kicking his feet and flailing with the most enormous grin on his face.

"...Blaine? Are you there?"

"Yes, yes," he answers hastily. "Sorry. Uh...sure. That's fine. Maybe you should keep one here too, if you'd like?"

The tell-tale squeak of excitement from Kurt has Blaine suppressing a laugh, but he manages to pull it back, nodding when Kurt agrees.

"Sure. So...I'd better say goodnight, I guess, seeing as we both have work tomorrow."

"Yeah. Thank you, Kurt, for an amazing weekend."

"I believe the pleasure was all mine."

"Mine."

"Mine."

"Mine."

"Goofball," Kurt laughs. "Okay. Goodnight. I'll text you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, my one and only."

"Goodnight my beau," Blaine replies softly, then hangs up before he can blurt it all.


	7. Chapter 7

For the next three weeks, Kurt and Blaine date happily. College is out, summer is in the city and when they're not working, they spend their time on romantic picnics, strolling around the neighborhood parks or traveling further afield- trips to Coney Island, a carnival in Brooklyn and a boat trip on the Hudson River are all activities which leave them both with wide smiles and feeling evermore closer to one another.

And Blaine finds himself forgetting all about the rather important matter of them being accidentally married, and Kurt not knowing.

Almost.

Occasionally it will hit him- in quiet moments after the music store has closed and he's sweeping the floor, or when he lies alone in bed at night, unable to sleep because of the bile rising in his throat. But when he's with Kurt, all of that disappears. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what he does think about when he's with him, his mind becomes filled with visions of Kurt's smile, or the way his eyes sparkle. The sound of his laugh, or the taste of his lips. The feel of his body underneath Blaine's hand, the soft sighs which escape his lips when Blaine kisses him goodnight...Blaine fills his mind with each and every one and then, when the moment has passed he remembers that he still didn't say anything, and resolves that next time, he will.

But next time comes, and it's even more fabulous than the time before. Kurt will say something, or kiss him just so, and his mind is consumed once more- just as his heart has been consumed since the very beginning.

And in the end- though Blaine knows it is wrong- he decides to block it out entirely. He keeps busy at work, and surprises his colleagues by singing loudly when he cleans up after hours. He blushes when Sam tells him he has a wonderful voice, but puts it to use again and again whenever he is alone, finding that forcing himself to remember lyrics from seventies and eighties songs keeps his mind from wandering anywhere near the word 'marriage.'

On this particular Saturday, he finds himself whistling as he works the counter. Though the prospect of making conversation with complete strangers overwhelms him, he finds it infinitely more preferable to being alone with his thoughts, and so he smiles as he hands a bag over to a customer and turns to greet the next in line.

"Oh! Rachel! Hi. How can I help you?"

"Oh, um, I'm not a customer," she says with an apologetic smile. "I came to see you."

"Why?" he panics."Kurt? Is Kurt okay? What-what's happened?"

"Nothing," Rachel tells him hurriedly, watching him warily as he tries to slow his breathing. "No, I mean I came to see you because I thought it would be nice, that's all."

"Did Kurt ask you to stop by? To check on me?"

"No!" she laughs. "I told you, I just thought it would be nice to call in. Do you have a break at all?"

"Um...well I have a lunch break at eleven thirty," he says suspiciously, wondering why she needs to know.

"Fifteen minutes," she says, looking at her watch. "Okay. I'll go to the drugstore on the corner and be right back. I know a place we can get lunch."

"I uh...I bring my lunch," he squeaks, cursing himself internally for his nerves. He's been bumping into Rachel at Kurt's place a lot, and she's been over to visit Santana twice of her own volition. He feels much more comfortable with her around than he ever thought he would but one on one, like this, he retreats immediately back into the shy, nervous, embarrassed and socially awkward Blaine he always was- the one he's trying so desperately hard to leave behind. "I eat out back. In the room... Staff room, that is."

"Oh. Well...maybe this time you could come out for lunch with me instead?" she asks sweetly.

Blaine is trapped. On the one hand, he really does want to go out for lunch with Rachel. He genuinely likes her, and he knows Kurt will be pleased they've been spending time together. On the other, that age old panic of what to say, the fear of making a total fool of himself is overwhelming him, causing his breathing to quicken and his heart to race. But he knows he can't say no.

"Sure. Fifteen minutes," he says with a curt nod, before breaking all shop rules and leaving the counter unattended to hide out back until she is gone.

He emerges fifteen minutes later, blinking owlishly into the bright sunshine before pulling on some sunglasses and smiling at his new companion. "So...where?"

"Come on," she laughs, taking his arm regardless of the way he flinches. "There's a great little place near the park where we can sit outside."

He goes silent, happy to listen to Rachel's continuous monologue about how much she loves the city and her favorite places for this, that and the other until they arrive at a small pavement cafe.

"So...you and Kurt," she says with an impish grin once the waitress has departed with their order.

"Yes?"

"It's going well?"

Blaine grins, settling back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. "It's going great."

"It's just I noticed you haven't stayed the night since I went back home that weekend."

"Oh." Blaine reddens and sits straighter, back on guard once more. "Look Rachel, I don't know how much Kurt has told you, but this is my first relationship- and it's the same for him. We're just taking things slow."

"I understand that," she says gently. "But I also understand that you've been dating nearly a month, and you spent the night together when you'd just met, and again on your second date. I just hoped it wasn't anything to do with me."

"What? No! No. Please don't think that," Blaine pleads. "Kurt hasn't stayed with me either," he points out.

"Because he feels awful leaving me alone for the night, that's why, despite my protestations that I'm more than capable of managing by myself. He's become more than a little protective since Finn died, and I don't want that impeding on your relationship."

Blaine says nothing, only fiddles with the straw in his drink, his eyes downcast.

"Thought so."

"It's not just that," he mutters, embarrassed. "Part of it really is that we want to go slow. But I just feel like...like it's not really fair on you to have me sitting at your breakfast table when you...you..."

"You know, if Finn was still here, he'd be so pleased for Kurt," Rachel smiles, reaching across the table to still his restless hand. "And he would probably give you a huge, bone crushing hug for making his brother so happy," she adds with a tearful laugh. "All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was for those around him to be happy. And seeing Kurt happy makes me happy. I'm not ready to even contemplate looking for love again, Blaine. But I really enjoy watching Kurt's face light up when you text, or seeing him come bouncing through the door after a date, breathless with excitement and his lips all swollen with kisses. There was a time when I never thought he'd have that, and now he does, and with someone as wonderful as you."

"Oh, erm...I don't...no...no...I'm not all that wonderful," he whispers.

"I like you, Blaine. I want us to be friends."

"Really?" he asks in surprise. "Why?"

"Why not?" Rachel asks, baffled by his question. "You're smart, and funny. I like being around you... We have a lot in common and you're dating my best friend. Is that reason enough?"

"I just don't understand why anyone would want to be friends with someone as...dull as me, that's all."

"You're not dull," she cries, outraged. "Not at all. A little shy, maybe, but I firmly believe you can overcome that with Kurt at your side."

"I'd- I'd like to," he nods. "I really would. I'd like people to like me."

"I'm sure people do, Blaine."

He shrugs as the waitress sets their plates down, slipping a small piece of paper into Blaine's shirt pocket. "Hey cutie, call me," she says with a smile before shooting daggers at Rachel.

"Oh wow," she laughs in disbelief as Blaine stares at his pocket as if fearful it might set on fire at any moment.

"I don't want people to like me if that's what it entails," Blaine says, trying not to smile, and taking the paper out his pocket he rips it into shreds.

Rachel laughs, picking up her knife and fork. "Kurt would scratch her eyes out."

"Kurt has nothing to worry about," he says proudly. "I'm his one and only."

By the time Rachel walks him back to work, Blaine is happy and relaxed- indeed he offers his arm to Rachel gladly, and they walk along the street happily, laughing as they discuss the merits of old school Tom and Jerry.

"Well, I really don't want to go back to work now," he says as they stop outside the shop. "Thank you for railroading me into lunch. I really enjoyed it."

"I'm very good at getting people to do stuff," Rachel tells him proudly, and then she surprises him by hugging him tight. "I hope to find you at my breakfast table soon."

"Sure," he says with a laugh. His eyes flick to where a blond boy is running down the street, and as he skids to a halt outside the shop he raises a hand in greeting. "Hey Blaine. I'm late again," he says with a goofy grin. "Oh, I didn't know you had a sister."

"Oh, Rachel's not my..."

"Sam?" Rachel shrieks. "Oh my god! Sam Evans!"

"Rachel!"

To Blaine's surprise, Sam picks Rachel up, right there in the street and hugs her tight, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. "Oh my god!" he keeps saying. "Oh my god!"

"It's so good to see you again," Rachel laughs when he sets her back down. "How are you? And how long have you been in New York?"

"I'm good, yeah," Sam grins. "I moved here back in January. I'm working here while I try to get the modeling thing off the ground."

"You should have called! I haven't seen you since...since..." Rachel trails off, taking a small, unconscious step toward Blaine to seek comfort. He can tell, from the look in her face that she's close to tears and shyly reaches for her hand, sensing that she needs him.

"Since Finn's memorial," Sam says quietly, looking down at the sidewalk. "I guess that's kinda why I didn't call, to be honest. I figured it was best to give you and Kurt some space, a chance to grieve together. How...how's it been?"

"Tough," she says, squeezing Blaine's hand. "But we're getting there. Starting to smile again, find enjoyment in things...yeah."

"That's great," Sam says genuinely. "And so cool that Blaine's your brother! We work together. I can't believe we didn't make the connection."

"Uh...no," Blaine replies in confusion. "Rachel is not my sister."

"She's not? Dude, you two look like you're related."

"Thank you, but we're not. Can I ask how you know each other?"

"Oh, we went to high school together," Rachel tells him. "Sam was in glee club with me, Kurt and Finn."

"So...don't you think you would have met me before?" Blaine asks Sam curiously, but it seems to pass over his head.

"Man, I'd love to see Kurt again," he saying as he gets out his cell. "Is his number still the same?"

"It is," Rachel says, and Blaine feels the stirrings of jealousy flaring in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Sam having his boyfriend's number. "Oh but you know, you should just come over tonight," she smiles. "Blaine will be there."

"Cool," Sam's nodding before Blaine has a chance to intervene.

"Oh and Blaine, you should ask Santana too. And Dani. Ooh, fun!" she cries, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Uh...actually, Kurt and I were going to..."

"Oh Blaine, you'll have other dates," Rachel says. "Kurt will really want to see Sam, I'm sure."

"Dates? Your brother's dating your best friend? That's like you and Finn in reverse!"

"Not my brother," Rachel tells him again. "But yes, Blaine and Kurt are dating."

"Seriously, Blaine? You're dating Kurt? Really?"

"Actually, it's a whole lot more than dating," he snaps indignantly, two pink spots appearing on his cheeks. "We're boyfriends. Very much together. It's serious, not just casual dating. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work- and you're late already, remember."

The rest of the afternoon passes in a fog of simmering rage for Blaine, though he can't really work out who or what he's angry at and for why. Rachel- he supposes- for railroading him into an evening with a large group of people instead of a quiet date with Kurt, and didn't she just say she's good at getting people to do what she wants? Himself- certainly- for not having the courage to stand up for himself and say outright that tonight wasn't convenient but how about next week...or never. But also Sam. He's angry at Sam. His squash partner and the one colleague he felt he had true friendship with, it now transpires has a past very tightly intertwined with Kurt, which he happily prattles on about all afternoon while Blaine attempts to work around him.

It's ludicrous he knows. Sam can't help where he went to school; and the fact that he lived with Kurt and Finn for a while when he had nowhere to go should warm Blaine's heart. But it doesn't. It makes him unreasonably jealous. Jealous that Sam knew Finn- this enigmatic giant of a brother, friend and boyfriend which Blaine will never get the chance to know. He can never connect with Kurt on that, yet Sam can. Jealous that he got to see Kurt day in, day out. When he starts telling Blaine about the hard time Kurt got at school, Blaine tells him- almost smugly- that he knows, they've discussed this already. But Sam is quick to reply with: "No dude, you don't understand. It was bad. Like, really bad," which only serves to anger Blaine more.

Then there's the looks, of course. Blaine knows he can't compete. He knows Sam is desirable. With his floppy blond hair, blue eyes and great physique, Blaine is blatantly ignored by any customers- male, female or otherwise- in favor of Sam. He attracts and pulls focus, albeit unwittingly, and now Blaine has to spend an entire evening in his company.

"So your junk is gonna be on the side of a bus?" Dani asks Sam, as Santana and Rachel cackle.

"Yeah," Sam grins. "Awesome, huh?"

"I'm gonna get more chips," Kurt says, standing. "Blaine? Would you help me please?"

"You okay?" Blaine asks worriedly as he trails Kurt into the kitchen.

"Yeah," he sighs, pulling Blaine out of sight of the living room occupants. "Just sad to be missing our date, that's all. I was looking forward to going to the Rose and watching Casablanca with you."

"Me too," Blaine laments sadly, sliding his arms around Kurt's waist. "But Rachel said you'd really want to see Sam, so..."

"Hmm." Kurt scrunches his nose as he speaks. "It's nice to see him, but we were never all that close. He was tight with Finn. I think Rachel is just clinging desperately to the last vestiges of what was our normality. But you know, even if Finn was still with us, things would be different. They're bound to be. We're not in Lima now."

"Did I do wrong?"

"No, no, not at all," Kurt hurries to reassure him. "Rachel is very good at getting people to do what she wants."

"I had noticed."

"And like I said, it's nice to be in touch with him again. And great that you know him too."

Blaine shrugs. "I guess."

"I hope his modeling takes off, it's all he's ever wanted to do," Kurt prattles as he fills the bowl with chips. "And he'll be good, you just know it."

"Of course."

Kurt turns immediately, trying to hide his smile at Blaine's adorable pout. "Hey. Are you upset about something?"

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine says with a sigh. "I know he's good looking. You're allowed to crush on him. Everyone else does."

"What?" Kurt laughs loudly before taking Blaine in his arms and rubbing small circles on his back. "Are you insane? Do you think I like him like that?"

"Yes... Maybe."

"Do _you_ like him like that?"

"No!"

"Then what makes you think I would?" Kurt asks gently, hopping onto the counter and tugging a reluctant and embarrassed Blaine between his legs. "He's good looking, yes, but not my type at all. And you know...I'm not just attracted to how someone looks. There's gotta be more. A spark when we talk. Good conversation and a sharp, smart sense of humor are the biggest turn on for me. Plus dark curls, strong, manly arms and thighs, a firm chest with just the right amount of hair," he continues with a grin as Blaine lifts his head and smiles. "Amber eyes, of course...and the ability to hold me so perfectly that I never want him to let go."

And then Blaine is kissing him, leaning up and sliding one hand into his soft hair as Kurt relaxes into the kiss and lets it consume him- neither one caring about the four people just the other side of the wall as their tongues meet and Kurt whimpers softly.

"Rachel's not the only one who knows how to get what she wants," Kurt whispers against Blaine's lips, his eyes still shut with pleasure. "I needed that."

"Same."

"Stay with me tonight," Kurt says, tracing one finger delicately over Blaine's lips. "It's been too long since I woke up in your arms."

"How about you stay at mine?" Blaine asks. "Santana is with Dani tonight, we could have the place to ourselves."

"Done," Kurt grins as he hops from the counter. "Go make polite conversation for five minutes while I pack."

"You wanna go now?" Blaine whispers with a giggle.

"Hell yes I do," Kurt hisses, "this is our date night. I'm determined to claw it back in any way I can."

"What'll you say?"

"Just...follow my lead."

"Okay," Blaine grins, unable to believe this is happening. "Oh, and Kurt? Pack lube."

"You still didn't buy any?" he laughs.

"I get embarrassed."

"I know you do," Kurt says with a kiss to his cheek. "And it's fucking adorable."

He marches straight through the living room, clutching his forehead with one hand. "Kurt?" Rachel calls. "You okay?"

"Headache," he murmurs, before shutting the door to his room, where Rachel follows immediately. She returns a few moments later, perching on the arm of the couch and touching Blaine's shoulder lightly.

"Blaine? Kurt has a really bad headache. He needs to go to bed, but he suggested your place might be better, seeing as it's noisy here. I offered to ask people to leave but he wasn't having any of it."

"Oh," Blaine says, sitting upright and nodding solemnly. "Of course. Yeah. That's...that's fine. I'll um...yeah," he trails off, standing to find his shoes.

"He can crash all night," Santana calls to Rachel. "I'm at Dani's anyway."

"Perfect. Oh, thank you, Blaine."

"No worries," he smiles. "I'll go get him."

They're on their way a few minutes later, with Rachel and Santana cooing out the window as they watch Blaine guide Kurt gently down the street. "So cute!"

"Totally," Santana agrees. "It even melts me. I always knew Blaine would be the worlds best boyfriend, and I'm so pleased he's found Kurt. He needed someone who would appreciate him."

"Aww, look at the way he's touching Kurt's back!" Rachel squeals. "And carrying his bag."

"Oh, a cab. He's gotten a cab," Santana sighs dreamily. "Bless. He didn't want to make Kurt walk."

"Beyond cute."

"High five!" Kurt laughs as they scoot into the cab.

"Yes!"

"You just know they were watching from the window," Kurt says, happily putting his arm around Blaine and pulling him close.

"Totally. So now they think we're going home for me to tuck you up in bed and take care of you."

"Blaine Anderson, those better be exactly your intentions," Kurt whispers in his ear. "I need taking care of."

"That...that...yes. That's exactly what I intend to do."

They stumble through the door, lips locked together as Blaine slings Kurt's bag somewhere before tugging him bodily toward the bedroom. "Wait a minute," he says, pausing for breath. "This is supposed to be a date."

Kurt raises one eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning...did you expect any...dateage?"

"Dateage?"

"Um...I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say," he laughs, eyes crinkling as Kurt joins in. "I mean...did you just want to go right to bed?"

"Yes."

"Good."

And he makes Kurt shriek as he scoops him up into his arms, pushing against the bedroom door and stumbling into the blackness. "My god, you're heavy."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. Oof," he grunts as he deposits Kurt on the bed. "Won't be doing that again."

"How romantic," Kurt laughs dryly.

"If I strip you and kiss you all over, does that count as romantic?" he grins, and Kurt's surprise at Blaine's forthright words is rapidly replaced by arousal when he straddles him and his hands come to rest on his belt buckle.

"Oh my god yes," Kurt says, trying to play it cool but the broken whimper in his voice betrays him.

Blaine laughs, his voice low as he leans down to nuzzle against Kurt's jaw. "If I lift your shirt over your head and kiss down your gorgeously smooth, perfectly sculpted chest, will I be the most romantic boyfriend you've ever had?"

"Haha! Yes, of course," Kurt says, sitting up slightly for Blaine to pull his shirt over his head. "Blaine?"

"Hmm?" he pauses, hands resting either side of Kurt's hips.

"Can I just say, in all seriousness for a second... You're beautiful. Like really, truly, beautiful. Inside and out."

The immediate, knee-jerk reaction is for Blaine to shake his head and open his mouth to rebuff the compliment, but then he looks at Kurt, eyes full of sincerity, so warm, open and genuine, and he smiles, relaxes, and for the first time in his life, accepts a compliment happily.

"Thank you," he whispers, hoping Kurt won't notice the way his eyes glisten in the darkness. "And I hope you know I think the same about you."

"I do," Kurt nods, kissing his lips gently.

"Here." Leaning past Kurt, Blaine turns a small bedside lamp on before gazing adoringly at his boyfriend. "Better. I can see you now."

He undresses Kurt slowly, savoring every inch of his body, kissing, stroking and touching gently yet firmly as Kurt writhes beneath him until he's just down to his boxers, now tented with a small damp patch appearing on the fabric.

"Hold up," he says when Blaine takes ahold of the waistband. "Lie down."

Blaine obliges, watching Kurt with wide eyes as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, kissing down his chest before daring to nuzzle his face into Blaine's crotch, feeling his erection rubbing against his cheek. "Oh fuck," Blaine moans, throwing one hand over his eyes.

Kurt laughs quietly, removing his pants and making Blaine groan loudly when he palms him through his insanely tight boxer briefs- today covered in SpongeBob Square Pants.

"Uh...again, I wasn't expecting your company tonight," he says, though this time he sees the funny side and fails to be embarrassed. "I didn't think nakedness would be involved, given we were in the company of others."

"Hmm, Patrick was always my favorite."

"I have those too."

Kurt laughs again, sliding Blaine's underwear down his legs and onto the floor, then standing and removing his own. They lie side by side on the bed, Kurt on his side, propped on one elbow and trailing a finger over Blaine's chest as they study one anothers bodies without fear or embarrassment.

"Still not weird," Kurt murmurs.

"Me?"

"No, us. This. Naked on top of the covers, lights on...yet I'm not ashamed."

"I wouldn't be ashamed either, if I looked like you."

"Are you ashamed now?"

"No," Blaine smiles. "Because I know you like me."

There is a momentary pause, where both let unsaid words flood their thoughts, but then Blaine nods, not feeling quite ready to be so forthcoming with his emotions, and he rolls on top of Kurt instead, hoping his lips can convey what his voice cannot.

They make out heatedly, until Blaine can feel Kurt's hardness digging insistently into his thigh again, and he moves lower. Resting his chin on the top of his thigh, he looks up into Kurt's eyes and receives a small, almost imperceptible nod to continue.

"I uh...I want to get this right," Blaine says, trying to ignore the very distracting presence of Kurt's cock which is twitching dangerously close to his lips. "So please, promise me you'll tell me what's good and what's not. And I promise not to take offense." He sees Kurt's nod and continues. "It's just...I want us to learn, together, and if you don't tell me then I can't get better. And I only have porn as my guide so..."

"I promise," Kurt says softly, in awe of Blaine's consideration. "But you have to do the same. Always. Deal?"

"Deal," Blaine grins, and kisses the tip of Kurt's cock.

"Fuck!"

"I haven't started yet."

"I know that, it's just...that was unexpected...and it felt phenomenal."

"Just that?"

"Imma do it to you in a minute, then you'll see," he smiles, before lying back against the pillows and closing his eyes.

"I look forward to it," Blaine smirks.

Though his heart is pounding- he has literally been fantasizing about what it would feel like to suck another man's cock since he was fifteen- he feels strangely relaxed as he takes hold of Kurt's erection at the base, and runs his tongue experimentally up the entire length, then circles around the head.

"Ooooh Jesus _Christ_!" Kurt shouts- exceptionally loudly to Blaine's ears.

"What? What'd I do? Is that wrong?"

"No! No, not wrong at all. More. More of that," he moans, then adds as an afterthought: "Please."

"Oh." Blaine looks down, pleased- grinning at Kurt's cock now glistening in the lamplight. "'Kay."

And he takes him in his mouth fully this time- as much as he can, anyway- bobbing his head as he swirls his tongue around him before pulling back and sucking gently on the head. He keeps this up for a few moments then pulls back, a little embarrassed at the noise that makes but feeling proud at the way in which Kurt's chest is now heaving and flushed.

"I'm really worried about my teeth," he admits when Kurt's eyes flutter open.

"I'm really worried I'm gonna come in your mouth."

Blaine frowns, confused. "I want you to come in my mouth."

"Oh." The surprise is evident in Kurt's voice, but a smile spreads over his face. "Okay then."

"Is it..."

"It feels amazing," Kurt tells him honestly. "Just...maybe suck a little harder."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Blaine nods, taking him in his mouth once more and moaning around him when he feels Kurt's fingers tangling into his hair.

"Oh fuck, yes!" Kurt cries. "Do that again...that humming thing."

"Mmm?"

"Yes," Kurt whimpers brokenly. "That."

Blaine hums again, sucking a little harder as Kurt directed, and he relaxes his jaw when he feels eager hands on the back of his head, pushing him lower. "Could you...could you just, maybe...sit on the edge of the bed?" he asks... "It's just the angle..."

"Sure."

And this time it's perfect, Kurt gasping and moaning loudly as Blaine kneels between his legs- and surely there's no hotter sight than that- taking him as deep in his throat as he can manage. He has the perfect amount of leverage this time, and his hands grip Kurt's waist, thumbs rubbing distractedly over his prominent hip bones as he builds up a rhythm, tongue winding around Kurt's cock in such a heavenly manner that Kurt has a hard time trying not to shove his entire length down Blaine's throat right there and then.

"Blaine...I'm...this...yes..." Kurt whines as he bucks helplessly upward and comes hard into the warmth of Blaine's mouth, who patiently waits until he's done before pulling off and swallowing, resting his forehead wearily against Kurt's knee.

"Oh my goodness," Kurt says weakly, falling onto his back. "You...that tongue...that mouth..."

Pleased, Blaine climbs onto the bed, moving to kiss Kurt's lips and frowning when he pulls away.

"Uh-uh."

"Why not?" Blaine asks, confused.

"You're not kissing me until you've rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth, mister. Think what you've just had in there."

"You taste amazing," Blaine grins. "Haven't you ever tasted yourself before?"

"What?" Kurt shrieks. "Ew! No! And how would I even do that, anyway? It's got to be physically impossible."

"I mean haven't you ever run your finger through your come, just to see what it tastes like," Blaine clarifies.

"Oh." Kurt blushes. "No."

"Please let me kiss you. If you don't like it, I won't force it, I promise, but I just want you to see how wonderful it is. It's not...I don't know...it's just...deeply errotic, that's all."

"Okay," Kurt agrees. "I trust you to stop if I ask," he says, and brings his lips slowly to Blaine's. He doesn't notice anything at first, until Blaine's tongue runs over his and he tastes it. Salty, bitter, yet undeniably thrilling to know that Blaine adores him enough to want to taste all of him, and to swallow the results of the orgasm he induced. And Kurt finds himself kissing back hungrily, wanting and needing more. He feels Blaine, still hard and desperate, pressed between their stomachs and guides him until he's sitting where Kurt was moments before.

"You don't have to..."

"I know, but I want to."

He takes his time- unlike Blaine, he's always been more reluctant than excited at the thought of giving blowjobs. But he does at least know how amazing it feels to receive one, which makes him want to return the favor to Blaine. Kneeling like this, face to...well...head? with Blaine's cock, he's suddenly struck by how absurd a notion this is. Taking someone else's genetalia in your mouth ought to be repulsive and yet...and yet he finds himself curious, wanting to know how Blaine feels in his mouth, the weight of him against his tongue, how he tastes. The first kiss that he places right to the tip, as Blaine had done, leaves him smiling at the way his boyfriend's breath catches in his throat and he subconsciously lifts his groin closer to Kurt's lips. So he moves in again, putting his mouth lightly around the head and sucking gently, spurred on by the low moan coming from Blaine's throat. He slides deeper, his tongue running up the underside of Blaine's cock before he feels his gag reflex start to kick in and he pulls back a little.

"Teeth," Blaine moans.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry," Kurt rushes out, mortified.

"No, I mean...your teeth...I...I...want to feel them," Blaine says, embarrassed at admitting something so private. "I...I...saw it, once and I just always liked the thought of..."

"Like this?" Kurt asks, sparing him any further blushes by lowering his head and scraping his teeth down his length.

"Yes!"

"Harder? Again?"

"Not harder," Blaine says with a wince as he thinks about it. "Just...I dunno...like that, from time to time, maybe?"

"I can do that," Kurt grins before engulfing him once more.

It is everything Blaine ever imagined and more, so much more, because it's Kurt. Kurt looking up through his lashes with wide, questioning blue eyes, seeking Blaine's approval which he inadvertently gives by groaning and trying to push further into the heat of Kurt's mouth. Kurt, with his lips stretched wide and slick as he slides up and down Blaine's cock as if made for that purpose. And Kurt, with his slightly trembling fingers digging into Blaine's thigh as he angles his head just so and runs his tongue into the slit of his cock, making Blaine cry out and fist his hair.

"Fuck! Kurt...like that...just like that. Oh my god," he moans as Kurt sucks around him once more and he comes hard.

Kurt tries to swallow it all- certainly that was his plan, but Blaine shudders hard, dick pulsing and filling Kurt's mouth to overflowing and he pulls off, spluttering slightly as some dribbles down his chin. But Blaine doesn't seem to mind. Far from it, in fact, if the way he seizes Kurt's face and crashes their lips together is anything to go by.

"You. Are. Perfect." A grinning Blaine tugs his boyfriend up onto the bed and under the covers. "Completely perfect."

"I made a mess."

"Which looked so insanely hot."

"Really?" Kurt asks, raising one eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Yeah. Completely."

"You're a dark horse, Blaine Anderson," Kurt says. But he secretly loves that Blaine is adventurous in bed... Well, maybe blow jobs can't be considered all that adventurous, but by Kurt's standards it's definitely an advancement on where he was a month ago.

"Just you wait."

"I look forward to it," Kurt smiles, leaning up to kiss his lips before snuggling tight into his side once more.

"How's your headache?"

"Not good. I think I'm gonna need lots more bed rest before it'll go."

"What a shame," Blaine laughs. "I was gonna suggest we hit Broadway tomorrow, pick up some tickets for a matinee."

"What?" Kurt cries. "You have to be joking. I'm sorry Blaine, but that's just way out of my price range."

"I wasn't asking nor expecting you to pay, Kurt. I want to take you on a date. Tonight was supposed to be my date, now tomorrow can be instead."

"But...but..." Kurt wants to decline, he knows he should but... Broadway. Blaine. Date. "Why would you want to spend all that on me?" is all he can think to say.

"I have my reasons," Blaine says with a wink.

"Actually...I can think of a better use for your money, if you really want to throw it around," he says, and his sudden shyness has Blaine's interest piqued.

"Oh?"

"Uh...yeah...it's... No, no, don't worry."

"Kurt?"

"No, it's nothing, really," he says, two pink spots appearing on his cheeks as he bites his lip nervously. "Could I please get some water?"

"Sure," Blaine nods. "I'll get it."

Pulling on his underwear, he still eyes Kurt suspiciously as he runs to the kitchen and returns moments later with a bottle of water, two glasses of milk and some cookies. "I've worked up an appetite," he explains around a mouthful of chocolate crumbs.

"I'm going home," Kurt blurts out, and Blaine chokes hard, cookie spraying all over the bed.

"What? Why?! What did I do?"

"Not now," Kurt tells him hastily, slapping his back to dislodge the crumbs. "Oh god Blaine, I'm sorry. I'm going back to Ohio."

"This just gets worse!" he cries desperately.

"Not for good! For the weekend. At the end of the month."

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"I thought I did!"

"No you did not!" Blaine shouts, laughing in relief. "Jeez..." he trails off, brushing crumbs from the bed and handing Kurt his milk. "Okay. Start again. You're going home for a few days?"

"Yes, at the end of the month. It's just...I've been back once since Finn died, and it was terrible. A real harrowing time for all concerned and I couldn't wait to get back here and be as far away from all his memories as possible. I know Rachel visited my dad and Carole when she was home, and though my dad didn't say anything outright, Rach kinda felt like they're...not lonely, but...I don't know, like maybe the house feels really empty. They bought a bigger place, figuring we would fill it and even when we moved away we would be back all the time and then there'd be partners and kids... Whereas now, not only is there the very noticeable lack of Finn's presence, but I'm not there either. And I feel I need to address that. I can't go back all the time but...I just feel like I want to visit for a few days. Things are good for me right now- great, in fact- and I'd like them to see me this happy."

"That's wonderful," Blaine smiles, holding his arms out to him, but Kurt doesn't move other than to set his empty glass back on the tray.

"I was wondering if you'd come with me."

"Oh."

"But that's where the money comes in," he carries on through his blushes. "I don't really have enough to pay for two flights and I..."

"You want me to meet your family?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Taking a deep breath, Kurt looks him right in the eye. "Because you're everything to me."

Blaine doesn't reply. He can't. He simply leans across and kisses Kurt with as much fervor as he can muster, pulling back with an enormous grin on his face.

"Did I make you cry?" Kurt asks worriedly.

"A little. But not in a bad way," he laughs, swiping at his eyes. "Just...just I'm just constantly amazed and astounded that someone as wonderful as you can like someone as..."

"Don't," Kurt cuts him off. "Don't do yourself down. I won't have it. Just tell me if you're coming. It's okay if you feel it's too much pressure or whatever."

"I want to come, I'm honored that you've asked and I would happily pay for my flight."

"But?"

"But...I'm not ready for you to meet my family yet," Blaine sighs. "I'm not ashamed of you, far from it. And I do want to tell them about us it's just..."

"You want to tell them about us? Really?"

"Yes," Blaine nods. "Because you're everything to me, too."

"That's enough for me," Kurt says, and now it's his turn to blink back the tears. "Honestly, you're not ready to tell them and that's fine. It's enough, to know that you want to, that you will."

"Thanksgiving," Blaine says with a nod. "I had already decided that I would at Thanksgiving."

"Then that's what we'll aim for," Kurt says, moving next to him and hugging him tight. "And in the meantime, you'll come meet my family and we can spend four entire days and nights in each other's company."

"Only if you let me take you to a show tomorrow," Blaine whispers as he tugs him down under the sheets.

"But you..."

"Can afford to do both. Now please, promise me I can show my beautiful boyfriend off on Broadway tomorrow afternoon in exchange for doing the whole very scary meet the parents thing."

"Okay," Kurt laughs, kissing his cheek before turning out the light. "If you insist."

Kurt falls asleep almost immediately, curled around Blaine's back, one arm wound protectively across his waist. Blaine, on the other hand, lies awake for the longest time, blinking into the darkness and watching the numbers on his alarm clock slip ever closer toward dawn. He doesn't know when, he doesn't know how, but he knows one thing for absolute certain.

Blaine Anderson is completely, wholeheartedly, irrevocably in love.


	8. Chapter 8

The airport is crowded, a fact which annoys Burt Hummel intensely as he stands with his wife, waiting for the incoming flight from New York to disembark. He feels like he's waiting for the prodigal son to return, and finds himself inexplicably nervous at the thought of seeing Kurt again. It's been five months. Five very long months since he and Carole flew to New York, where they fussed over Kurt so much that Burt could tell he was more than happy to wave goodbye to them again. And of course, he hasn't seen Kurt in Lima since he broke down sobbing in Finn's old room, tearing through the house declaring he couldn't do this anymore, couldn't be here. He had packed hurriedly, and Burt had said a reluctant farewell to him at this very airport, wondering if he would ever see him in Ohio again. And now, according to the screen above his head, he was about to. Very soon.

"So who is he bringing?" he asks his wife for the umpteenth time since Kurt's phone call the day before. "He really didn't say?"

"No," she answers, trying to stretch up to look over the head of the man in front. "He just said he was bringing someone with him. It's probably Rachel."

"It won't be Rachel, he'd have said if it was Rachel," Burt replies gruffly, annoyed at not knowing clear and concise plans.

"Or Sam, maybe? It could be Sam. He said they were in touch again."

"Hmm. I guess." He tries to look around the couple embracing in front of him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt coming toward them but his view is blocked by throngs of other passengers. Carole jumps onto a bench, scanning the crowd before her face lights up and she waves frantically.

"There he is! Oh Burt! He's here. And he's not with Sam."

"No? Who is it then?" Burt asks, standing on tiptoe.

"A boy."

"What?!"

"And they're holding hands."

"Are you kidding?"

"Burt," she says, hopping down from the bench and gripping his arm excitedly. "It looks like Kurt has brought a boyfriend home."

"You okay?" Kurt asks Blaine as they walk down the long corridor, pulling their carry ons behind them.

Blaine lets out a shaking breath, relieved when Kurt takes his hand firmly in his. "Yeah. Yeah. I will be. Just want to get the introductions out the way, that's all. I'm not very good at meeting new people."

"You'll be fine," Kurt reassures. "And just remember, with my dad... Most of what he says sounds gruff, but he's usually kidding. Just...take him with a grain of salt. Or a whole bucket load."

"Okay," Blaine laughs, feeling much more relaxed.

"Oh, and they don't know I have a boyfriend."

Blaine stops dead. "What?"

"I haven't told them. I didn't say anything at first because I didn't want to gush about you and then it didn't work out or something, and I would have had the father son chat about not giving my heart away too soon and all that. And then I didn't say anything because it was going so well I didn't want to jinx it...and then I figured it'd be a nice surprise." He shrugs, looking down at the floor. "And now all of that sounds a little silly."

Blaine wants to run. He wants to tear back down that corridor and hide on the plane until it flies back to New York and he never has to deal with meeting parents, or an accidental marriage, or being so helplessly in love that he doesn't know what to do with himself ever again.

Except it's Kurt. And he _is_ helplessly in love. And Kurt looks so vulnerable, so worried that Blaine will be mad at him- that he'll walk away- that Blaine can't fail to step up; taking Kurt in his arms right there in the middle of Columbus airport, lifting his chin until his downcast eyes are looking into his once more and he can gently kiss those sweet, full pink lips. "You're not silly," he whispers. "You're perfect. And I can't wait to meet your parents. Now come on, they'll be waiting."

A woman suddenly appears, head and shoulders above the crowd and presumably standing on something as she waves to them frantically. Kurt waves back, picking up speed, his grip on Blaine's hand tightening excitedly. "That's Carole, my step-mom. C'mon." And then they're pushing through the crowd- or rather, Kurt is pushing and Blaine is scurrying along in his wake- until he abruptly drops his bag and hurls himself into the arms of the woman and an enormous man wearing a plaid shirt and a baseball cap- which Blaine can only assume is Burt Hummel.

"Oh my god!" Kurt cries happily, his voice muffled against his dad's shirt as he's buried in his arms, while Blaine stands awkwardly on the sidelines. "Dad!"

"So good to see you," Burt says gruffly into his boys hair, pressing a kiss there which makes Blaine's eyes widen. He can't ever remember being kissed by his own father, not even when his Grandma had died and he'd cried for days. "And am I to assume the guest bedroom won't be used?" he asks as he straightens up and eyes Blaine warily.

"Stop it," Kurt says with a laugh. "Dad, Carole, this is Blaine...my boyfriend," he tells them, chest swelling with pride as it always does. "Blaine, meet Carole, my wonderful and completely amazing step-mom," he smiles as he puts an arm about her shoulders and kisses her cheek, "And Burt, my idiotic and completely not funny dad," he teases as he dodges a kick to the shin.

"Um...hi," Blaine says shyly, giving a timid wave. He remains completely in awe of this family dynamic as Burt and Carole shake his hand warmly, all smiles and so-nice-to-meet-you's and he just stands there, wondering if all other families are as close as this one appears to be.

"Seriously," Burt says as they head to the parking lot. "Are you two sharing a bed, or what?"

"Of course we are," Kurt says nonchalantly as he finds Blaine's hand and squeezes it. "I told you, Blaine and I are boyfriends."

"I know that, but you've never had one before...to my knowledge, anyway," Burt says with a pointed look at his son. "I don't know what your moral standards are."

"Just because I want him to share my bed it doesn't mean I have no moral standards," Kurt grouches while Blaine wonders what in the world he's entered into.

"Burt, honey, enough now," Carole tells him as she unlocks the car. Looking to Blaine, she rolls her eyes. "They're always like this. Ignore them."

Blaine is silent for the entire journey home. He doesn't mean to be, but he can't exactly join in a conversation regarding which of Kurt's high school friends are still in Lima, who's in LA, who's moved to god knows where else. Nor can he contribute to the discussion about the new neighbors and their dog. By the time conversation rolls around to New York, Blaine is so panicked that all he's said so far is hi, that he finds himself facing a complete mental block, unable to just casually chip in with comments when Kurt gushes about watching Matilda, or tells them about their picnic in Central Park which got trampled over by a pack of errant toddlers. When Carole asks how they met, and Kurt strikes up with "Funny story, actually," he closes his ears and looks purposefully out the window, praying that he will stop making a complete fool of himself through his silence and learn to socialize like a normal adult.

Mercifully, they head to Kurt's old room as soon as they get home, where he sinks onto the edge of the bed and holds his head in his hands as soon as Kurt closes the door.

"Hey now," Kurt says softly, kneeling on the floor alongside him and wrapping his arms about him as best he can.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers shamefully.

"Why? I'm sorry for talking too much and not including you in the conversation," he says, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Blaine's spine. "I know you find it difficult to join in, but it's okay, really."

"Why do I though, Kurt? I'm nearly nineteen, for goodness sake. Why do I find it so hard to join in a conversation? But the more I overthink it, the more I panic, and then I panic that the moment has passed and if I join in now I'll look dumb and then, when I try to think of something else to say, the conversation has moved on."

"I don't think there's any huge problem," Kurt shrugs. "You're a naturally quiet person, and lots of people find conversation with strangers difficult. I think you overanalyze things," he says kindly. "You know, when you came for dinner last week with Santana, I was struck with how well you spoke to Rachel. You initiated the conversation you two had about football, and she was so happy to be able to discuss Finn's passion with you. It's taken time, but over the last eight weeks, you've really relaxed around her."

"Eight weeks, though," Blaine says despairingly. "Not four days."

"Blaine?" Kurt crouches lower, seeking out his downcast eyes. "Blaine look at me." He smiles when Blaine lifts his head reluctantly. "Better. Now listen. Four days here, yes. This time. But I was kinda hoping you'd stick around a little longer than that."

"Of course!" Blaine says, startled. "I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't. I'm just trying to point out to you that this is only the first time you're meeting my family. This will get easier over time, just as it has done with Rachel, or Sam."

"Who was the wheelchair boy we met last week?"

"Artie?"

"Yeah. I liked him."

"Most people do. He's very likeable."

"He's kinda like me. A bit nerdy."

"Yes," Kurt nods. "And he's got a kind heart just like you have. But he's not devastatingly sexy," he grins, pressing his lips to Blaine's before he respond. "Please, just...relax. Try not to worry. We're all on your side, okay?"

Blaine nods, looking infinitesimally brighter than he did when they first entered the room.

"Okay," Kurt says firmly. "Unpack, take a shower, whatever you want. I'll go downstairs and check on dinner plans."

He leaves Blaine to it and goes in search of his dad, whom he finds in the den pretending to read the newspaper, but Kurt knows- given that the room is directly beneath his own- that he's really listening for creaking bed springs and banging headboards.

"What's for dinner?"

"Carole's cooking," Burt says, folding the paper and gesturing for Kurt to sit in the armchair. "I thought Breadstix might scare the living bejesus out of Blaine. He seemed a bit startled."

"He's very shy," Kurt says evenly. "And perhaps not used to a warm family environment."

"I see." Burt nods. "So...care to explain why you didn't mention him before? You've been together since Vegas, that was April. It's August tomorrow."

"Actually we got together in May," Kurt tells him. "And I didn't say anything because I didn't want to jinx it."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes."

"Are you being safe?"

"Daaad," Kurt whines, immediately turning red.

"I'm just asking."

"Well please don't."

"I'm your dad. It's my job to look out for you," he says smugly. "So...are you?"

"Ugh. I'm not having a conversation about this with you. If you really need to know, we're not...doing...that," Kurt hisses, completely mortified. "Yet. So..."

"Okay, okay," Burt nods. "Good. Well...when you do..."

"Please be quiet," Kurt begs.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," his dad says earnestly.

"What in the world makes you think Blaine's going to hurt me?" Kurt cries. "You've met him!"

"But I don't know him, do I?" Burt replies. "The only conversation we had involved me saying hello and him mumbling something completely incoherent in response which I can only assume was a greeting. Two hours ago to me, you were single. Now suddenly you're sitting there telling me you're serious about some guy who's staying in my house and squeaks whenever I look at him!"

"Dad... I get that you're worried, but really, Blaine isn't going to hurt me. He's...he's wonderful, sweet, caring... Dad, he's so kind and attentive to me. He makes me feel so...safe. Confident to be myself. We have loads in common, and we both want this relationship to move at the same pace. Please, just get to know him and you'll see. He's incredibly smart, and funny... I just love...dating him," he finishes lamely.

Burt nods, pondering Kurt's answers as he looks at him. Suddenly, his son seems to have grown up without him noticing and he feels lost, adrift from the shy, quiet introverted young man that first moved to New York. "Are you in love with him?" Burt asks, forthright and direct as always.

Kurt stares down at his hands, formulating his answer before he looks his dad square in the eye. "If he asked, I'd marry him tomorrow."

Blaine takes his seat at the table nervously. He's placed opposite Kurt, though he'd much rather be beside him, so he busies himself with placing his napkin neatly in his lap and taking a sip of his water while Carole bustles in with their meal.

"So, Blaine."

"Stop it, dad," Kurt warns.

"I only said his name!"

"It was the way you said it!"

"Burt, honey, be quiet," Carole says with a smile. "Blaine, would you like mashed potatoes?"

"Yes please," he whispers fearfully, eyeing Burt warily as he hands him the bowl. "Thank you."

"So, Blaine," he tries again, ignoring the way Kurt rolls his eyes and groans. "Where you from?"

"Uh...I'm from Westerville, actually," Blaine says timidly, cursing himself internally for his squeaky voice and the blush he can feel creeping up his neck.

"Fancy," Burt acknowledges. "You lived with your parents?"

"Yes," he nods. "I have a brother too. He's a doctor in Columbus."

"And what do your parents do?"

"Um...well, my mom used to teach third grade. And my dad," he says, letting out a shaky breath. "My dad is a Baptist minister."

"What?" Kurt cries, eyes huge and jaw slack. "Holy shit!"

"You didn't know this?" Burt asks.

"No, I didn't know!" Kurt cries. "Holy crap, Blaine! No wonder you haven't come out to them!"

"You're not out?" Burt butts in.

"I just didn't..."

"Blaine, sweetheart, it doesn't matter," Carole interrupts kindly. "Burt, for the final time, be quiet. Let Blaine tell us about his family if he wishes, and stop putting pressure on the poor man."

Blaine stares down at his plate, willing himself not to cry as he so desperately wants to. He doesn't dare look at Kurt, who is probably so horrified at the admission of his dad's profession that he'll soon be asking him to leave.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shit. Kurt's question, asked like that, in front of his parents, has Blaine swallowing a huge lump in his throat, forcing himself to look up and mentally trying to work out if he can afford a last minute flight back to New York without arousing his dad's suspicions by using the credit card.

"I just... I hate telling people," he sighs. "I am the preacher's son. Wherever I go, when people find out what he does, that's all I become. Not Blaine, not the one who sings in the show choir, not even the stupidly shy one who runs away, sooner than initiating conversation. Not even that. Just the preacher's son. The one you have to watch your language around. The one you mustn't invite to keg parties. The one who asks you to score him a fake ID and you must deny all knowledge because you can't provide a preacher's son with fake ID, you just can't. It's why I never told anyone at Dalton that I was gay. Could you imagine? And then, when I moved to New York, I figured the best thing was not to tell anyone. Hell, I resent my parents enough as it is, even without adding his job title into the mix. So I had a clean break from all that. I couldn't escape their shadow, their overbearing presence in my mind always telling me I wasn't good enough, but I could- for once- escape being the preacher's son. Because I'm more than that, Kurt. So much more."

"I know you are," Kurt says quietly, reaching across the table for his hand as Carole and Burt look on, silent and slack jawed. "And I still would have dated you, you know. It makes no difference to me what they do."

"You see," he says. "That's why I...why I like you as much as I do. Because you like me for me."

"So... Baptist, huh?" Kurt says lightly. "So he's of the school that believes homosexuality is inherently wrong?"

"I um...I don't know," Blaine admits. "I've never discussed it with him, but I know he believes- obviously- very strongly in the bible, so... I'm guessing his beliefs fall in line with that. He's a very conservative Christian."

"But you said you wanted to tell them about us," Kurt reminds him.

"I did," Blaine nods. "And I will be. I told you. At Thanksgiving. I want to tell them all about you."

"But..." Kurt breaks off as the enormity of what Blaine is planning washes over him. "I remember," he whispers, hoarse with emotion. "I remember what you said you wanted to tell them."

Their eyes stay fixed on one another's as Blaine's words from all those weeks ago ring in their ears.

_"I want to take him home, look them in the eye and say 'mom, dad, this is the guy I love.'"_

"I'm glad," Blaine says evenly, though in reality his heart is pounding with fear for Kurt's reaction.

"So..." Kurt croaks, all wide-eyed and trembly, hands shaking and mouth dry.

Blaine leans across the table, looking Kurt in the eye as his lips slowly part. "So... You'll have to wait for Thanksgiving, won't ya?"

They both lean back in their chairs, laughing loudly. "Oh snap!" Kurt says, clutching his hands over his stomach. "You got me!"

"I did," Blaine grins, pleased with how the situation has worked itself out so perfectly. He knows, Kurt knows.

Burt looks between the two of them as if observing a game of tennis, back and forth and though no words are spoken, plenty is said.

"I have no idea what's going on," he declares. "I'm just delighted to find Blaine actually has a voice. And is the son of a minister," he says with a solemn nod. "Oh the jokes I can use..."

"Dad!"

But Blaine laughs, holding his head in his hands in mock despair. "Oh Burt, you're gonna be one of those, aren't you?"

"Call me Mr. Hummel and yes, I am."

"Oh," Blaine straightens at once, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel."

"Relax! I'm just messing with you, kid," he laughs, slapping him on the back as he walks past him. "Good to have you on board."

"On board?" Blaine asks in confusion when Burt leaves the room. "On board what?"

"It means he likes you," Carole confides, smiling when Blaine blushes. "As do I."

"So," Burt huffs that night as he settles down under the covers. "What did you make of that little dinner time scene?"

"Well..." Carole says thoughtfully. "I thought it was the cutest non-exchange of I love you's that I've ever seen."

"You think that's what it was?"

"No, Burt. I know that's what it was. As for the rest of it... I feel sorry for the boy. He's obviously struggling with quite a few inner demons, plus feeling enormous pressure to please his parents."

"Great," Burt grumbles. "Kurt would have to fall for a complicated and needy one, wouldn't he? Nothing's ever straightforward with that boy."

"Did it occur to you that Kurt might be complicated and needy himself?"

"What?"

"Oh come on, Burt. You're not an imbecile. You're a good dad who knows his son well. You know he's not been in a great place this last year. None of us have been, admittedly," Carole says, swallowing over the lump in her throat. "But you and I have had each other."

"He's had Rachel," Burt grouches.

"Yes, he has," Carole agrees. "And I'm thankful they were already living together when this all happened. But they neither of them have been able to cope with their own emotions, much less anyone else's. Blaine and Kurt both have issues, yes, but they are also quite obviously head over heels for each other. I've a feeling they might be just the ones needed to help mend the other."

"What was that?" Burt asks, sitting upright quickly. "Did you hear something?"

"No," Carole sighs, agitated at her speech going unrecognized.

"It was bed springs," he mutters, pulling back the covers. "Bed springs creaking."

"For the love of god, Burt Hummel!" she cries in despair. "The bed has to creak for them to actually be able to get in it. They've probably just finished brushing their teeth and have got under the covers. Now don't you dare leave this room to find out or I will make sure Kurt knows all about the time you locked yourself out when you were wearing only my dressing gown."

"You're looking very pleased with yourself," Blaine remarks as Kurt jumps into bed with a creak of the springs.

"That's because I am," he replies smugly, watching Blaine as he settles neatly on the edge before sliding under the covers. "Tonight went well... Don't you think?"

"I'm not sure," Blaine says shyly. "I kinda think yes, but I worried that my little speech was too much. I just forgot anyone else was in the room. That's what you do to me," he says with a coy glance in Kurt's direction. "And I uh... I hope you know I wasn't keeping anything from you deliberately. It's just...when we spoke about my parents we were only on our second date, and I didn't want to put you off entirely."

"I know that," Kurt says, feeling a surge of happiness when Blaine pulls his undershirt off and snuggles into Kurt's embrace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "And actually, I think your speech helped. It gave us all an insight to your thoughts, and I don't think that's a bad thing at all. My dad was impressed with you. You didn't yell, scream or wallow in self pity and despair, you just said why you hate saying what your dad does, and that's understandable."

"Is it?"

"Sure," he smiles, kissing Blaine's forehead. "Hell, when I was in high school I was even reluctant to tell anyone my dad was a mechanic- they were always after me to get a good deal on their next service or something," he laughs. "I understand, Blaine. It's okay."

"Hmm." Blaine closes his eyes and smiles blissfully, turning his head to kiss along Kurt's collarbone. "I had fun tonight," he says. "Carole is sweet and your dad is...your dad...and,"

"Hey!" Kurt laughs, digging him in the ribs. "That's my dad!"

"Exactly," Blaine teases. "No, seriously, I like him. He's protective but then I'd like to think I'm a protective boyfriend so..."

"You know, I didn't know your brother worked in Columbus either," Kurt muses, letting his fingers trail along Blaine's spine.

"Yeah."

"Did you want to see him while we're here?"

He feels Blaine shrug against him, curling tighter into his side. "Dunno," he mutters. "Could do, I guess."

"You don't get along?"

"It's not that. We just...don't really know each other, I guess. I stay out of his life and he stays out of mine. It suits."

"I thought Christianity was supposed to be about love, first and foremost," Kurt says in confusion. "Love others the way I have loved you and all that."

"Yeah," Blaine says with a sigh. "But not in my family. I guess that sometimes the ability to be able to quote scripture for any given circumstance, and having the picture perfect family to the outside view is more important. I don't know," Blaine says, turning out the light and pulling Kurt down onto the pillows.

"I find that sad. Is your brother religious too?"

"He goes to church. You know, Kurt, I haven't had any kind of discussion with you about faith, or religion so I don't know what you believe or what you think but...but...well...not all Christians are overbearing and zealous. There are some truly wonderful people out there with a deep faith and a good heart, and I think, possibly, my brother could be one of those."

"I know that," Kurt replies simply. "I also know that there are those types of people in all walks of life. There are also overbearing zealots everywhere too. Religion has nothing to do with it. But I'd still like you to see your brother at least, while we're here."

"Maybe."

"You could see your parents too, if you want to? Without me, I mean. I won't mind."

"That's very sweet but not necessary, thank you," Blaine says stiffly, and Kurt senses he won't be getting anywhere with that line of conversation.

"Okay," he says amiably. "So let's stop talking and get some sleep," he says much to Blaine's relief. "Are you big spoon or little?"

"Little."

"Thought so."

"But not without a kiss." Cupping Kurt's chin, he leans in, kissing his lips firmly yet sweetly. "Better," he whispers and shuffles happily into position.

Kurt scoots close behind, kissing Blaine's bare shoulder before lacing their fingers together and resting them over his heart. "Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"... Goodnight, my beau."

Blaine grins into the darkness. "Goodnight, my one and only."

Both sleep soundly, and Blaine wakes in the morning slowly, letting the feel of Kurt's body pressed up behind him wash over him- the warmth of his breath on his neck, tickling his soft curls, his thigh, draped hot and heavy over Blaine's, the comforting, solid touch of his chest to Blaine's back and...oh...his erection pressing between the cheeks of Blaine's ass. He smiles, wriggling backward slightly so that even through their pajamas it slots perfectly into line.

And then he becomes aware of Kurt's hand.

"What the...?" he starts in a hoarse, sleep-filled whisper.

"Shhh," Kurt says into his ear, making him shiver as he continues to palm him over the soft cotton.

"Your parents..."

"Will be none the wiser if we just keep quiet," Kurt murmurs, pulling Blaine's earlobe between his teeth, and Blaine finds himself swelling rapidly in Kurt's hand, letting out a strangulated moan and burying his face into the pillow.

"Oh god," he whimpers, pushing his pajama pants to his ankles. "_Yes_."

"Hold still," Kurt whispers, and Blaine hears the rustle of clothing being removed followed by the click of a cap then silence until Kurt's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him gently into the bed until he's almost face down, his weight tipped slightly to one side for Kurt to rest behind him and slide his cock in between Blaine's ass cheeks. "This okay?"

"Mmmm, yes," Blaine smiles against the pillow. "Feels good."

"Your ass is insanely hot," Kurt says with a breathy laugh, leaning down to kiss the back of his neck.

"Hot as in temperature?" Blaine asks with concern.

"No," he chuckles. "Hot as in it turns me on. A lot."

"Oh," Blaine says quietly, then shuts up when Kurt begins to slip slide slowly behind him.

There is only the sound of their breathing, hot and heavy in the room, and the rather strange sound of lubricated skin rubbing against each other which should be embarrassing but somehow isn't. Kurt presses closer, his thigh draped over Blaine's hip, who whimpers and fists the sheets, burying his face in the pillow.

"Oh god this is good," Kurt groans, close to Blaine's ear who twists his head to try and find his lips. Their kiss ends up being more teeth and tongues clashing than anything else, but neither seems to mind as Kurt doubles his efforts, screwing his eyes shut and clutching tight to Blaine's chest, who reaches down to take his cock in hand.

"Too good," Blaine breathes. "Oh god, oh god...Kurt, don't let me come on the sheets!"

"Shit," Kurt stops, pulling back with a nod. "Okay. Here." He rolls Blaine onto his back, drizzling lube over him and smiling at the soft gasp of surprise his boyfriend makes.

"Cold."

"I'll warm it up," Kurt says, nudging his legs apart and falling between them, draping his body over Blaine and aligning their cocks.

"And now I can kiss you," Blaine smiles, reaching one hand up to the back of his neck. Once Kurt begins to move, however, all thoughts of kissing technique are forgotten, replaced by trying to silence one another's whimpers and moans, chasing each other's lips with open, gasping mouths.

Blaine's fingers dig hard into Kurt's back as he rises from the bed to meet him thrust for thrust and between them they build a up a slightly imperfect rhythm but one which has them close to the edge nonetheless, and Blaine bites hard on his lip to keep from crying out when he comes. The feeling of Blaine's cock pulsing next to his own just does it for Kurt and he follows right after, biting hard into Blaine's shoulder as he continues to rut helplessly against his thigh until he's completely spent, collapsing into his boyfriends open and welcoming arms.

"What a wake up," he says wearily as Kurt laughs against his chest.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I just woke up and you were there, all warm and...and...hard. Does that sound creepy? It does. I sound creepy."

"You're not creepy, you're delicious," Blaine tells him, kissing his cheek.

"We should probably..."

"Not yet," Blaine whispers, rubbing his hands soothingly over Kurt's back. "In a minute, maybe, but not yet. I'm cuddling my non-creepy boyfriend."

Kurt laughs, relaxing once more and feeling so utterly serene and peaceful that he's not sure he ever wants to move. "Okay," he sighs, closing his eyes and burying himself into Blaine's neck. "Five more minutes."

"What's wrong now?" Carole asks, setting a mug of coffee in front of her husband who sits listening, expectantly.

"It's quiet."

"So?" she laughs. "They're probably still sleeping. They're teenagers, don't forget."

"I might just..."

"No. You've been up there three times in the last half hour. Leave them to it, and be grateful you only have to worry about the silence and not banging headboards and shouts of pleasure."

"Do you mind?"

Carole laughs, kissing his flustered cheek as she sits next to him. "Ah-ha!" she says with a grin. "That's the sound of the shower."

When Kurt and Blaine pad into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, Carole greets them warmly while Burt eyes them suspiciously, watching as Kurt fixes breakfast for both of them before leading Blaine over to sit at the table. It is only then that he looks up as sees his dad watching him.

"What?" he asks through a mouthful of waffle.

"You two are quiet."

"We're eating."

"Not now, then. Upstairs."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asks in confusion, looking to Carole who sighs and shakes her head.

"You've been quiet."

"We've been _asleep_."

Sensing his defeat, Burt grunts and returns to the newspaper, leaving Blaine to look at Kurt with wide, fearful eyes. But Kurt just reaches out and covers Blaine's hand with his own, smiling softly, and he relaxes once more. None of this goes unnoticed by Carole, but she acts discreet, turning her attention back to her breakfast and they eat in silence.

"Why do you both have wet hair?" Burt asks suddenly, slamming the paper down on the table triumphantly.

"Huh?"

"I only heard the shower run once, yet you both have wet hair. How?"

"Oh my god," Kurt laughs, shaking his head as he stands to fetch more coffee. "I'm not even going to entertain this discussion, dad. Blaine's hair always looks wet from the gel, anyway."

Blaine feels Burt's eyes on him and sinks lower in his chair, pretty sure that the rather alarming shade of red his face now is, is a pretty clear indication that he and Kurt have just showered together, even if nothing went on.

"So, boys," Carole interrupts brightly. "What are your plans today?"

"I thought we'd go to the shop this morning with Sherlock over there," Kurt says, laughing when Burt grumbles under his breath. "If he's not too busy doing forensics on our pajamas to find out if we wore them, that is."

"I wore mine!" Blaine blurts out quickly.

"You'd better have done," Burt grouches. "You too, sunshine."

"I did!" Kurt says, reaching his arms over his dad's shoulders and hugging him tight. "Grouchy."

"Go away."

"Grouchy McGrouch pants."

Carole laughs as Blaine watches this bizarre exchange in confusion. "That's what Finn used to call him," she explains. "When we all first moved in together, Finn and Burt struggled for a while. A real clash of wills. But then things smoothed out and Finn used to tease Burt when he was grumbling by calling him Grouchy McGrouch pants," she smiles at the fond memory.

"And he used to kiss the top of his head, like this," Kurt says, laughing when Burt tries to duck out of the way. "And then dad would try and retaliate by ruffling Finn's hair, only he couldn't reach."

They are all laughing now, and Blaine looks on happily, in awe of the ease and affection with which they can talk about Finn even though it is evident that they all miss him terribly. "Come on then," Burt says, scraping back his chair from the table. "I'm leaving in five. Get ready if you're coming with." He claps a hand on Blaine's shoulder as he passes him by. "Ready to learn some mechanics?"

"Yes," Blaine grins, much to Burt's surprise. "I can't wait. I love cars, taking them apart, putting them back together...yeah. I just love 'em."

"Excellent," Burt smiles. "I think we'll get along just fine."

"He likes football too," Kurt calls after him.

Burt stops in the hallway, turning back to Blaine with a grin. "I'm trading Kurt for you," he says with a nod.

"Hey!"

"What? He's better looking, politer, and he wears bow ties," Burt says teasingly. "A far better class of son." He dodges the tea towel Kurt hurls his way and runs down the hall, cackling and leaving an enormously happy Blaine in his wake.

Their morning in the shop turns into an entire day, with Blaine and Kurt working solidly on an old dodge convertible while Burt watches and listens in to their conversation. He finds himself relaxing about Kurt having a boyfriend, certainly the kid- although shy- is well meaning and polite and he clearly adores Kurt. They all eat lunch together and Burt is struck by how smart and witty Blaine can be when he manages to let go and be himself.

When they arrive home, Kurt very graciously offers Blaine the first shower, and under the glare of his dad, announces he will wait in the den until Blaine is done and then they switch. But Blaine feels strange, sitting all alone in the den, and seeks out Carole in the basement, folding laundry.

"Hey honey, you okay?"

"Uh...yeah. Just thought I'd come see if I can help at all?"

"That's very sweet of you," she smiles. "You could fold those towels."

Blaine nods and sets to work in silence as Carole studies him awhile. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah," he nods. "It was fun. I like being here."

"That's good," she says warmly. "We like having you here. It's good to see Kurt so happy, and you seem to fit right in. Even Burt doesn't phase you."

"Oh I don't know about that," he says shyly. "I'm actually pretty terrified."

"Oh Blaine. We didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"No, you didn't," he reassures quickly. "Not at all. You've made me feel very welcome. I just live most of my life feeling terrified that I'm going to mess up in some way or another. I'm not very good at fitting in."

"Well like I said, you fit right in with us," she says, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "So please don't be afraid. Really, there's no need."

"You have a very happy family," he says, stiffly, thrown by her warm and comforting touch.

"We do," Carole nods. "It was happier, of course..." she trails off for a moment, bringing her son's face to mind with a tearful sigh. "But we're getting there. Not getting over him, of course. No. We wouldn't want to. It's just becoming easier to talk about him, easier to reminisce and laugh, not burst into tears. It's a year in September," she says quietly.

Blaine stops folding towels, leaning against the dryer to listen. "I didn't know that."

"September twenty fourth," she nods. "My plan- though Burt doesn't know this- my plan is to book a cabin at this lake we used to go to. You should come with us, I'm sure Kurt would like that."

"Oh, I don't know, I'm..."

"Come with us," she repeats. "Please."

Blaine nods, overcome with an emotion that he can't identify. Pride- at being asked, maybe? Sadness, at never knowing this wonderful lady's son? Joy, that she obviously sees Blaine as being an integral part of Kurt's happiness? Possibly a mixture of all three. Or maybe it's just the overwhelming love and kindness Carole emits toward him that has him choking on the tears lodged in his throat, staring down at his feet in embarrassment.

"I'm so glad Kurt asked me to come home with him," he says in a near whisper that has Carole straining to hear. "I've never had this in my family and...it's nice," he finishes lamely because really, it's so much better than nice but he just doesn't know how to vocalize it.

"Blaine?" Carole says softly. "Come here, sweetheart."

And to his utter surprise, he goes willingly, falling into her arms and hugging her tight. She is warm and comforting and all the things a mother should be and Blaine realizes he can't remember when his mom ever hugged him like this, like he belonged.

"It's been a long time since I've had a boy to hug like this," Carole says over his shoulder.

"I don't think I'm quite as tall as Finn," he says with a smile, not letting go.

"Honey, you could climb a ladder and you still wouldn't reach," she chuckles then sighs, pulling back but keeping her hands on his shoulders. "Know that you'll always be welcome here, Blaine, no matter what."

And Blaine smiles tightly, avoiding her eyes as he stares at the wall and wonders how the hell he's ever going to deal with the clusterfuck that this situation has now become.

"I gotta...uh...Kurt," he mumbles, jerking his thumb towards the staircase. "But thanks, y'know, for..."

"Anytime," she smiles, watching this confused and insecure boy taking the stairs three at a time.

"Woah!" Kurt laughs when Blaine enters the room and immediately tackles him into a hug. "You okay?"

"No," he sobs, and Kurt immediately pulls back, guiding him to sit on the bed.

"Blaine?" he asks in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I've fucked up," he cries in despair. "I've totally messed everything up and I don't think you're gonna want to be with me anymore."


	9. Chapter 9

"What? Blaine, what are you talking about?" Kurt kneels between his legs, holding his shaking hands tightly in his own, concern etched on his features. "You've not done anything wrong."

"I have, I have," he laments, shaking his head as tears pool in his eyes. "Oh Kurt, I've let you down so badly."

"I don't see how," Kurt says kindly, though he feels sick with worry. "I know you wouldn't have cheated on me..."

"No! Kurt, I would never..."

"Exactly," he smiles shakily. "I know you wouldn't do that, and this weekend has been going really well, so I'm struggling to think what it could be. You were fine a half hour ago."

Blaine takes a deep breath, feeling sick to the pit of his stomach. "I...I've done something really stupid."

"What, Blaine? What have you done? Just tell me," Kurt urges gently. "Whatever it is, we can work around it, I'm sure."

"I...I..." he pauses, looking at the sheer terror on Kurt's face. Because that's what it is. He's terrified of what Blaine is going to say. Terrified that the best thing he's ever had will be over, through no fault or choice of his own. Terrified that Blaine isn't the man he thought he was... And of course, he isn't.

"I text my brother," he blurts. And oh, what a fool he is. Telling Kurt the second most worrying thing instead of the first. Backing out, like always. Never being strong enough, always being weak and now looking, watching as the terror leaves Kurt's face and is replaced by kindness and concern for his wonderfully shy and insecure boyfriend, biting his lip with what Kurt thinks is nerves but is actually self loathing and all out hatred for himself once more.

And he can't tell him.

He just cannot tell him.

"Hey," Kurt says softly, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, trailing his fingers down his neck to his collar. "Hey, that's okay. I told you that was okay."

"He said he could meet me Tuesday, before our flight."

"That sounds good. Tell me, Blaine, what's the problem here?"

He blinks, shaking his head as two tears escape and trickle slowly down his cheeks. "I can't tell him about us," he whispers. "I just can't."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Kurt says kindly. "I'm just glad you want to meet him, that's all. I don't want you to miss out on time with him because I know how it feels to suddenly never have that option."

"I wanted you to come with me though," he says, swiping at his eyes.

"I can, if you want me to."

"You can't. You can't. What will I say?"

Kurt shrugs. "Just that I'm your friend from New York and I asked you to come visit for the weekend, that's all," he says with a small smile.

"I can't do that to you," Blaine whispers, horrified. "You deserve so much better."

"You can do that, because I'm giving you permission to," Kurt says firmly. "You've already told me you're planning for Thanksgiving, and I told you we would aim for that together. We can go meet your brother for coffee and I will happily sit by your side as your friend. I mean, how hard can it be to not hold hands for an hour? Huh?" He laughs when Blaine opens his mouth. "On second thoughts, don't answer. Listen, Blaine, I get that this is tough for you but really, have a little more faith in me... in us. I'm not gonna ditch you because you haven't come out to your family, or you're not ready to. It doesn't matter if a million people know about us or just two. What matters is that _we_ know about us. Everything else is just background. You and I, together, is what matters. Please, just...just know that I am not going anywhere, okay?"

Unable to look Kurt in the eye, Blaine looks down, giving a small, tearful nod and falling to the floor to hug him tight. Kurt gives a small 'oof' when Blaine slams into him, but catches and holds him, dropping kisses into his hair while he cries for a million and one things, but most of all for Kurt.

"So...my dad wanted to take us out for dinner," Kurt says into his neck. "If that's okay?"

"Sure," Blaine sniffs, pulling back to reach for a tissue. "I'll um...I'll just splash some water on my face."

"Blaine? Do you feel okay? Better?"

"No," he says in all honesty. "I mean, you said all the right things but I just feel a million times worse because I'm so weak."

"I don't think you are, not really," Kurt smiles. "You kissed me first, asked me out first, initiated the uh...the..."

"Blowjob?"

"Yes," Kurt blushes. "That. You did that first... I think you can be very brave, when you want to be."

"When it involves sexual activity with you, you mean," he laughs though his voice is still filled with tears. "Great."

"No," Kurt laughs too, tugging him up to standing. "Although, if that works for you, maybe I'll hold out on you until after Thanksgiving," he teases before walking toward his closet, hips swinging.

"No way." Blaine, runs up behind him, grabbing him around the hips and daringly, for him, reaches down to grab Kurt's ass in his hands, kneading and squeezing as he groans in delight. "That ass is too good for me to hold off that long," he whispers, his voice turning heavy and dark when he nips at Kurt's jaw, desperate to immerse himself in his boyfriend and forget. Forget all about the words husband, or marriage, or Veags.

"Oh my god," Kurt cries weakly, stumbling backward into the closet door. "Blaine, you see... I love this side to you. This assured, dominating side."

"Oh, I didn't mean to dominate," he mutters, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No, no!" Kurt laughs. "I mean when you pin me up against a wall and kiss the life out of me. You know what you want and you're not afraid to come get it. I love that. Use that forcefulness more often."

"On you?"

"On everything," Kurt smiles. "But especially on me."

Kurt keeps a careful eye on Blaine for the next few days. He is undoubtedly quiet, but becomes quieter still when Tuesday dawns and Kurt finds him sitting alone at the foot of the bed in the early morning light.

"Come back to bed," he croaks, but Blaine only shakes his head. "You worried about meeting Cooper?"

"A little," he says softly. "Dunno." He shrugs, turning to look at Kurt, his heart lurching in sadness at what he's done and is continuing to do to the one he loves most. "I don't want to go back to New York."

"Why? You love it there."

"I love it here. Being with you all the time. Being part of a family. No worries, no pressure. Waking up with you...everything."

Kurt crawls across the bed, kneeling behind him and kissing his shoulder. "Same. Waking up without you is gonna suck, but you know what? We're big boys now. We can pick and choose where we spend the night. And as for the family thing? You're part of it now, whether you like it or not. My dad was saying Carole wants to book this cabin..."

"At the lake? Yeah, I know. She asked me to go."

"And will you? I'd like you to."

"Yeah," he nods, making a mental note of the date and knowing there's no way in hell he can tell Kurt before that trip. "Yeah, course."

"And will you come back to bed now, so I can hold you until it's a more acceptable waking up time?"

"Yes," he says with a small laugh. "But I'm little spoon."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Despite his protestations at not being nervous, Blaine looks sick with fear when Burt drops them off at the airport, clinging tightly to Kurt's hand and only reluctantly letting go when Kurt hugs his dad goodbye.

"Well normally I'm sad," Burt tells them both. "But I'm not this time. It's been wonderful having you both home, and knowing it's only a little more than a month until we see you again makes it all so much better," he smiles. "Here." Opening his wallet, he hands Blaine two twenties, though he shakes his head and tries to give them right back. "Uh-uh. Buy coffee now, and get a cab back from the airport."

"But..."

"Take it," he says with a wave of his hand. "And look after my boy."

"I will."

"I know you will," he says, pulling Blaine into a bone crushing hug which leaves him gasping for breath. "Take care, kids."

"Daaaad."

"Don't care," he says smugly, "even when you're fifty I'll still be calling you kids."

He drives away with a wave and Kurt looks to Blaine, now standing with a quivering bottom lip. "You ready?"

"No. But I guess we'd better go find him," he says, and reaches up quickly to kiss Kurt's lips. "If I seem different, when we're with Cooper it's only because..."

"You don't need to explain," Kurt tells him sweetly. "C'mon."

"That's him," Blaine whispers as they approach Starbucks. "The one in the gray suit, on his laptop."

"I thought he had the day off?" Kurt questions.

"There nothing wrong with wearing a suit on your day off," Blaine snaps. "We were both brought up to look smart."

"Okay."

"Sorry, sorry," Blaine says with a flush of shame. "Sorry, I'm..."

"Nervous. I know." Kurt smiles, squeezing his fingers briefly.

Blaine nods sharply, taking a deep breath as they approach the man. "Hey Cooper."

"Blaine!" he stands, offering his hand to his brother who shakes it politely. "Good to see you again," he smiles as his eyes flick to Kurt.

"Uh Cooper, this is Kurt," he says, unable to stop himself from beaming proudly. "We've been visiting his family in Lima."

"Hi," Cooper says as he shakes Kurt's hand. "So you two know each other through college?"

"Vegas, actually," Kurt laughs, then worries he's said something wrong from the glare Blaine gives him. "We uh... We go to different colleges."

"Ah yes, I heard all about Vegas," Cooper says, gesturing for Blaine to sit, which he does, looking like a naughty schoolboy caught smoking. "I hear you're still repaying dad for the bar tab. And were you gambling, Blaine? You know how much I hate gambling."

"How did your dad pick up the tab?" Kurt murmurs as he slides in next to Blaine.

"Not now, Kurt."

"Three thousand dollars," Cooper interjects. "All charged onto Blaine's emergency use credit card."

"Three thousand?" Kurt cries in alarm. "Holy shit! What in the world did we drink?"

"Ahem," Cooper stares Kurt down until he blushes and apologizes for his language. "There's really no need for cursing," he smiles benignly. "Lots of other words will suffice. Coffee?"

"Oh, uh...Kurt's dad gave me money to..."

"Do you routinely ask older men to buy your drinks?" Cooper asks Blaine, and Kurt finds himself unable to tell if he's joking or not. "Sit there. I'll get your coffee."

"I'll have a..." Kurt starts, but Cooper is already striding away to the counter. "Three thousand," he finds himself repeating in awe. "Jesus. We've only shared two bottles of wine the entire time we've been dating. Wow. Blaine, I'll give you some money."

"No you won't," he mutters angrily shaking his head. "Just leave it. I'm paying my dad back."

"But I..."

"I really, really don't want to talk about Vegas," Blaine gets out through gritted teeth. "Not now, not ever. It was a total mistake, the entire thing, and I'd rather just pretend like it never happened."

"It was where we met," Kurt says quietly, hurt at Blaine's abrupt anger towards him.

"Not to me it wasn't," Blaine snaps. "We met in a bar in New York. End of."

Kurt opens his mouth to retaliate, but is distracted by the return of Cooper who sets down two cappuccinos in front of them. "Thanks," Kurt says meekly, then folds his hands in his lap and sits quietly.

"So..." Cooper starts, directing his words to Blaine, who looks terrified. "Care to explain why you've flown all the way to Ohio but haven't bothered to inform mom and dad?"

"I just..." Blaine stutters, clears his throat and tries again. "We were only here for a few days."

"Do you know how disappointed they'll be when they find out?"

Blaine hangs his head as Kurt looks back and forth between the two, waiting for him to respond but he never does.

"You've let them down a lot recently," Cooper continues. "Your exploits in Vegas, your insistence at working in some hippy record store, your stubborn refusal to live in dorms and choosing to live with Santana instead..."

"You know what? I'm sorry," Blaine says, slamming his drink down, but his words are directed to Kurt instead, who chokes on a mouthful of coffee and blinks rapidly. "I was totally and utterly rude to you for no reason. You didn't deserve it, it was inexcusable and...yeah. I'm really sorry," he says, lowering his voice to a much softer tone as he smiles indulgently at Kurt. "If I ever behave that way again, feel free to give my face a slap."

Kurt smiles back, eyes sparkling as Cooper stares on in surprise. "I could never slap your face," he says softly. "You're too pretty."

Blaine chuckles, reaching for his hand before drawing back at the last minute. "We met in Vegas," he says firmly. "And I am not ashamed of that, or anything else."

"Okay," Cooper butts in loudly. "Is there something going on here? Something I should be aware of? Because mom and dad are going to be disappointed enough to find you came home without telling them..."

"How about you just don't say anything, and stop being an asshole?" Kurt says with a tight smile.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm getting pretty tired of the way you speak to Blaine," he says, fumbling for Blaine's hand under the table and squeezing it tight. "You haven't seen him in what? A year? Well guess what? I lost my brother a year ago. I would give anything to have coffee with him again. So make the most of this time and stop running him down. Don't dwell on negativity and appreciate the fact that he's here, sitting opposite you and wanting to spend time with you, because god knows that would be all my wishes come true." He stands, smiling down at Blaine tenderly. "I'm gonna go check on our gate number."

Cooper watches with a frown as Kurt walks away. "He's gay."

"So what if he is?" Blaine snaps angrily. "Is it a direct threat to you, or your masculinity?"

Cooper opens his mouth to say something, but stops and watches his younger brother instead, staring after Kurt as he walks away, a genuine smile of real joy on his face and...something...in his eyes. Something which makes Cooper fearful yet happy all at the same time. He wants to question further, but Kurt's words resound in his head and stop him from pushing Blaine further away than he is already.

"He lost his brother?"

"Yeah," Blaine says, reluctantly turning back to the table. "Step brother, actually, though they were really tight. They were the same age."

"Sheesh." Cooper looks down at the table and shakes his head. "I know we're not close but...the thought of my life without you in it is just unbearable to me."

"Funny, that," Blaine says with a small smile. "I said the same to Kurt when he told me."

"Do you remember when we used to play operation together?"

Blaine laughs at the memory. "Yeah, man, I was terrible."

"You were six, you were allowed to be terrible. I was seventeen and longing to be a surgeon, I had no excuse."

They laugh together, both struck with how easy it is when they can do this and not try to spar with one another. "So you still want to be a kindergarten teacher?"

"Yes," Blaine says with a weary sigh. "I know, I know. Women's work, not a proper profession blah, blah..."

"Actually I was going to say I admire you. I did a six week secondment to pediatrics recently." He shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "Man, you need the patience of Mother Teresa, the diplomacy of the entire United Nations, the heart of a parent, the spirit of a fun big brother and so much more. I couldn't do it."

"Well, I'm still not sure that I can," Blaine says quietly as he fiddles with his empty cup. "I start a voluntary placement next semester and I'm scared sh...witless," he corrects.

"You can do it. You just need to believe in yourself a bit more, that's all."

"I don't though," Blaine says desperately. "I've tried to, and I can't, and I hate myself. I'm just useless and...and...and I just hate being me," he finishes lamely, looking away from Cooper's steely blue eyes.

"Well now. That was quite the torrent of self loathing. Blaine, I don't know what you want me to say. If you hate yourself that much then seek help, man. Find a counselor for goodness sake. Join a church, talk with the pastor...I don't know." He watches as Blaine shakes his head to each suggestion, and leans back in his chair to look at him, his baby brother, all curled in on himself and hurting. "Or maybe, just maybe, when you're with him, you don't hate yourself as much as you do when you're alone with your thoughts."

Blaine's eyes shoot up. "Kurt? What? Why? Why would you say that, why?"

"You seem to need someone, Blaine. Someone to latch onto who keeps you away from this self hatred thing you've got going on. Someone who will love and care for you and perform all roles; mother, father, best friend, lover... It used to be Santana, now it appears to be Kurt."

"That is," Blaine starts, laughing in disbelief. "That is...wildly inaccurate."

"Is it though, Blaine? Really?"

"Santana and I have never been...no. Will never be, either. No way."

"I didn't mean you were lovers with either her or Kurt in a sexual sense, don't be ridiculous," Cooper snaps. "I just meant they love you and you love them."

"I don't latch onto people."

"No, you don't. On the contrary, you keep yourself almost completely in isolation. That's why I was amazed to discover you have a friend other than Santana, and one whom you obviously hold very dear." Cooper holds a hand up to silence Blaine, leaning forward in his chair. "The thing is, you could have the whole loving parents thing, you could have the loving big brother, you could have friends, Blaine... But you shut everyone out. Why do you do that? Why do you find it so hard to let anyone in? Why has Kurt gotten in and yet mom, dad and I have been trying for nineteen years and you remain closed off?"

"Oh please," Blaine scoffs. "You haven't tried, Cooper. None of you have. It's all about my disappointments and shortcomings. My failures at school, at home, at church...even my god damn height has been the subject of discussion at the dinner table, with dad asking you if there's not anything I can take to make me grow, and mom moaning on about how all the Anderson men have been tall, and the ones on her side too, she doesn't understand where it's come from. And how do you think that makes me feel, Cooper? Huh? How the fuck do you think you all make me feel?"

"Okay, firstly I would ask you not to curse," Cooper says patiently. "Secondly...I don't know how it makes you feel, Blaine, because you never tell anyone. Find your voice. Please. Stand up for yourself and tell us, we would listen, you know, if you talked. We miss you."

"No you don't."

"Would you listen to yourself? So quick to judge."

"Well, I guess dad's sermons taught me something," he snarks, and a flash of anger crosses Cooper's face.

"I am trying, Blaine. I am trying to be a better brother to you, and I am trying to understand you. But you have to give something too. We do miss you, whether you choose to believe that or not. I was with mom and dad last Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year...and I see mom sigh and look at your empty place at the table. I see dad mailing you a check and looking at the tree, and I know he's wishing he could put a stack of presents under there for you instead. And you know what? I won't dare tell them I've met with you today, because I know how hurt they will be to find out you've flown all the way here, an hour from their house, to visit someone else's parents. I'm not denying they're strict. I know our upbringing was regimented beyond belief and the expectations we had placed on us as the sons of a minister made it impossible to breathe sometimes... And I'm glad you got to New York where you obviously find it easier to be yourself. But you can't pin all this on them, Blaine. They're not the reason you hate yourself right now. You need to work out exactly what that reason is, and then the rest will follow. And maybe you could visit them sometime."

"Thanksgiving," Blaine says hoarsely. "You can tell them I'm coming for Thanksgiving."

Cooper nods. "Are you bringing Kurt?"

Blaine stares at his brother in surprise. "He'll stay with his parents and I'll stay with mine."

"Probably for the best, this time," Cooper says. "Oh...Hey, Kurt."

Blaine turns, the relief evident on his face to see his boyfriend standing there gazing down at him. "You ready, beau?"

"Beau?" Cooper questions.

"Blaine! Sorry. Shit. Sorry again. Blaine. I have a friend called beau," he offers weakly as Cooper stands.

"I'm sure you do. Well, Kurt, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll see you again sometime."

"Likewise, and I look forward to it," Kurt says formally, shaking his hand and taking both their bags.

"Thanksgiving, little brother," Cooper says to Blaine with a small smile. "I'll hold you to it."

Blaine nods. "I'll be there." He offers his hand but Cooper hugs him tight.

"Take care."

He walks swiftly from the airport, not looking back and Blaine sags against the wall in relief. "C'mere," he grins, taking ahold of Kurt's waist and drawing him close. "God, you're perfect."

"I fucked up with the beau thing."

"Nah, you didn't," Blaine murmurs, burying his head against Kurt's neck and inhaling his scent. "Mmm. I needed this. Kiss me."

"Here? What if someone sees? Someone who knows..."

But he is cut off abruptly by Blaine's mouth on his, kissing him firmly, possessively, even, which does Kurt no favors as he whimpers and falls into Blaine's arms. His hands drop the bags and come up to grip the front of Blaine's shirt feebly as he frames Kurt's face with his hands and tilts their heads for his tongue to slide easily into the now familiar warmth. They both somehow manage to stop when Blaine groans deep in his throat, breaking away with furtive glances, but apart from a rather disgusted looking woman standing several feet away, no one seems to have noticed.

"Come on," Kurt laughs, taking Blaine's hand and swinging it happily. "Let's go home."


	10. Chapter 10

The next six weeks move quickly. Kurt and Blaine both return to college, and Blaine takes up his voluntary placement every Thursday and Friday afternoon at a kindergarten in Brooklyn which leaves him exhausted but undeniably happy, and only reaffirms his career choice. They spend as much time together as possible, made easier by Santana and Rachel's friendship which sees them often spending time together as a foursome, or inviting Sam and Artie to join them. The night time usually finds them tucked up in one or another's bed together, depending on who has the earliest start, and the weekends are dedicated solely to each to other as much as possible once work is done.

Blaine resolves not to dwell on the whole marriage issue, knowing that the weekend at the cabin is looming and noticing the subtle shift in Kurt's behavior as it draws ever closer. He is snappy at times, and leaves the room twice during their movie marathon with the girls, insisting he is fine but returning with a blotchy face even though they were only watching Top Gun. He returns to Blaine's side, offering a weak smile and pulling his legs into his lap- about as comfortable as they've managed to get with PDA in front of their roommates. Resting his head on the back of the couch, Kurt lets his eyes fall closed until the credits roll and he turns to look at Rachel.

"So Blaine said he'd drive to the cabin next weekend, given that it's only near Pittsburgh. It saves us trying to sort out flights and car hire."

"Oh," Rachel says in surprise, sitting up straight with her legs tucked under her. "Yeah, um...about that... I'm not going."

"What?" Kurt's voice turns immediately dark as he shoves Blaine's legs to the ground and turns to fully face her. "What did you just say?"

"So..." Santana says with forced brightness, giving Blaine a furtive glance. "I think it's time for us to..."

"Stay right there," Kurt snaps without even looking at them. "Rachel?"

"I'm not going to the cabin," she repeats with a shrug. "I called Carole yesterday and talked it through with her. She understands. I'm sorry Kurt, but I can't do it. This is your time to be with your family. Santana is coming to stay for the weekend and we've decided we're going to go out for a fancy dinner to remember Finn instead." She finishes with a smile but her eyes are watery and sad, and Blaine finds himself wanting to hug her tight, but clearly Kurt isn't affected in quite the same way.

"You have got to be kidding me," he snaps. "You're staying here, in New York, where Finn visited once, and going out for dinner with someone who never even knew him as opposed to visiting a place that you know was special to him, and reminiscing about him with those who knew him and loved him best."

"Actually, no," Rachel flares. "That's not it at all. Firstly, Sam, Artie and Dani are coming over on the Saturday night..."

"You've got this all planned!" Kurt yells.

"Yes I have! And might I remind you that you're taking Blaine with you, and he never knew Finn either?"

Blaine tries to make himself invisible while Kurt steams. "That's completely different! He's my boyfriend and I...he's part of my family now!"

"Oh it's that serious is it?" Rachel screeches. "After four months?"

"Nearly five and yes, it is, thank you," Kurt sneers while Blaine sits there all wide eyes and raised eyebrows and tries to ignore Santana's frantic hand signals for them to leave. "Not that it's any of your business," Kurt carries on.

"And it's none of your business why I'm not coming to the cabin!"

"Yes it is! It is, because you're turning down an invitation from my family, and Finn would want you there!"

"You don't get it, do you Kurt?" Rachel cries desperately as her tears start to fall. "When Finn died, you were all good with him. He was your brother, Burt and Carole's son...you were a family. Solid, happy and unchanging. But he was my ex-boyfriend," she sobs, pausing to swipe at her eyes as she cries freely now. "He was my ex because of my own stupid fault, because I believed I was so much greater than he was, and because I thought I could ignore my heart. Yes, we were headed toward reconciliation- or I'd like to think we were, anyway. But he'll never be my boyfriend again. I can never call him my husband, or the father of my children. I never got my happy ever after with him, Kurt. And I know none of you did either, but you've got each other, your family unit. That will never change. I feel as if I have no future. I can't let another man into my arms, much less my bed or my heart. How can I marry someone who isn't him? I don't want to go to the cabin because I don't want you all remembering these wonderfully happy times we had with him while I sit there, hating myself for ever having let him go."

Kurt dives across the couch and catches her just as she falls, sobbing uncontrollably while he holds her tightly and soothes as best he can. Blaine and Santana creep quietly toward the door, with Blaine mouthing 'call me' to Kurt who nods before turning his attentions back to Rachel. Once outside, Santana takes Blaine's arm and sighs heavily.

"Well. That was quite gut-wrenching to watch," she says sadly. "I actually almost cried."

"Yeah. I hope they're okay," Blaine says with concern. "It's just a really emotional time for them I guess, but I understand why Rachel isn't going."

"Kurt will too, when he thinks about it," Santana says with a pat to his hand. "I'm glad you're going with him though."

"Hey, you know what?" Blaine asks. "It's still early. Wanna hit a bar somewhere?"

"What?" Santana shrieks with a laugh. "Blaine Anderson is actually suggesting we go to a bar?"

He laughs shyly. "I know."

"Yeah, come on," Santana grins, taking his hand and pulling him across the street. "It's been too long since we did something just the two of us."

"Sorry."

She stops on the sidewalk and turns to face him. "Don't ever be sorry, Blaine," she says kindly. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you with someone at long last. Life moves on, Blaine. You and I can't be in one anothers pockets forever. You will always be my best friend and the one guy I love more than any other...which is why I can't regret not seeing you as much, because your happiness is so important to me. Now let's get you wasted so I can hear all about your new found sex life."

"Oh no, we're not..."

"Don't tell me you're not having sex with that," she barks as she strides down the street and he hurries meekly alongside. "Cause if you're not then I will."

"You're gay."

"And so are you! Christ on a stick, he's in your bed most nights. Get to it, man! What in the world are you waiting for?"

**00:19  
Kur, Santa thinks we should have sex. Less have sex. Yea?**

_00:20  
Oh glory. I take it you're drunk? Either that or you have a friendship with Santa which I was unaware of._

**01:11  
Kiss me**

_01:13  
I have no idea where you are, plus you probably reek of alcohol. You're still cute, though._

**01:17  
Fuck my ass until I beg for mercy.**

_01:18  
Well this conversation escalated. I have to say, Rachel and I cannot stop laughing right now. You will regret this, Blaine. I know you, and I know you will be mortified._

**01:20  
Let me fuck you. let me bend you over and fuck your tight ass an make you scream.**

_01:23  
Blaine, my darling? Give your phone to Santana and ask her to take you home._

**01:27  
Let Santana film us having sex. Please**.

_01:27  
Santana, I know that's you._

**02:08  
I puke Santa wan say hi rachel**

**02:14  
Kur? will you come look after me? Santa gone Danneees.**

Blaine wakes with a groan, sitting up and clutching his head gingerly. A glass of water is offered and he takes it, gulping it down desperately and smiling his thanks at the painkillers held in an outstretched hand. He swallows them quickly before looking to his left to find Kurt leaning back against his headboard, wearing a borrowed pair of batman pajamas.

"Kurt?" he chokes out. "How the hell did you get in my bed?"

"I got a text at two in the morning asking me to come and look after you."

"Santana?"

"No," Kurt says, suppressing a smirk. "You."

"Me? Really? Oh my god Kurt, I'm so sorry." He flushes red and draws his knees up to his chest in shame.

"Santana, or Santa, as you seemingly call her when drunk- is at Dani's. Wanna see what else you wrote?"

"No," Blaine groans with his head resting on his knees, "Though I've a feeling you're going to show me."

"Oh yes." Kurt hands the phone to Blaine, who squints as he reads, eyes slowly widening in horror.

"Oh my god Kurt. I am so sorry. And so embarrassed. You must be mad."

"I'm not mad," Kurt laughs. "If I was mad I wouldn't be here. I thought it was funny, and endearing in a weird...sexual...kind of way."

"And Rachel knows."

"She was sitting right next to me! She saw the funny side too, after she was over the initial shock, that is."

"Ugh. I'm so ashamed. Those texts make you sound like...like a piece of meat. And you're not. I really don't think of you like that, you mean so much to me."

"Blaine, relax," Kurt says kindly, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him back against the headboard. "I know you don't think like that. I also think there's a lot more that you perhaps want to say- or try- but you don't speak up."

"Oh no," Blaine moans, hiding his face in his hands as he turns flaming red. "I'm too hungover for this conversation."

"No you're not." A laughing Kurt pulls his hands away and climbs into his lap, straddling his thighs and catching hold of his fingers. "Blaine? Do you want to...um..."

"Yes," he admits honestly. "But only when we're ready."

"And you don't think we are?"

Blaine sighs, letting his hands come to rest at Kurt's hips, thumbs fitting perfectly under his hipbones and fingers spreading round to the top of his ass. "Kurt, with all due respect, you can't even say the word."

"Sex," Kurt tries, then looks down as the tell-tale flush of embarrassment spreads over his cheeks and Blaine chuckles softly. "That doesn't mean I'm not ready," Kurt cries indignantly. "It's different when we're...doing stuff. Because we're in the moment and it feels good and I'm happy to let my mouth run away with me... Oh behave," he smiles when Blaine smirks knowingly. "You know what I mean. I can just let go. And I want you, I really do. I always want you. Like, more than I ever thought possible."

"Same," Blaine says evenly. "Sometimes, when we're apart, I find myself thinking of you and suddenly I'm running down the street to get home and deal with my urges, and yet before, when I wasn't doing anything like that with anyone I was...well, I still did that, actually. But the urgent need wasn't there. Because getting off to porn is just a kinda lazy sunday afternoon thing to do, or a late at night on a wednesday after finishing an assignment. Whereas now, you come into my head and I can picture you, oh so clearly, and it's all I can do not to whimper and moan out loud in public."

Kurt turns the most brilliant shade of scarlet, but he looks pleased, excited. "You think of me? You...get yourself off thinking of me?"

"Um...yes?"

"Can I ask," he continues, biting his lip to keep from grinning. "Can I ask how much porn you used to watch?"

"Loads. You?"

"None. I've never seen any."

"Seriously?"

"Well...I watched a few clips on the internet when I was um...kinda...researching. But I was so uncomfortable and it felt so weird, knowing my dad was just down the hall that it didn't enter my head to try and get off to it."

Blaine rubs one hand over Kurt's thigh. "I haven't watched any since we got together," he tells him honestly. "I haven't needed to."

"Do I...ahem...give you enough? Like, are you satisfied?"

"Yes!" Blaine laughs. "Oh my god, yes. Kurt...of course I want to have sex with you. But I'm not ready either. When I touch you my hands shake and my heart races and it feels so good, yet I panic I might be doing it all wrong. I love exploring you. I love exploring what we like, together. There's nothing better. And you know, one day we'll be...exploring, I guess, and we'll just go that much further. But there's so much more I want to do with you before we take that step."

"What?" he asks. "Like, what do you want to do? Tell me."

"Well," Blaine cocks his head to one side and thinks a moment. "I really want to feel you in my mouth again. To me, that was just incredible. But we've only done it once. But this, most of all," he says, squeezing his hands around Kurt's ass. "I really want to touch you there, to finger you, to watch your mouth slip open in pleasure at the feeling of having my fingers inside you."

Kurt stares. And blinks. And stares some more. "Oh."

"Was that too much? It was too much, wasn't it? You can say."

Kurt looks down to where his cock is beginning to harden, the outline clearly showing through the pajama pants. "Uh...no. It wasn't."

"Hmm." Blaine grins, his palm coming to rest at the very top of Kurt's thigh, thumb running over his cock and making him swell even more, but he pulls back when Kurt leans in for a kiss. "I should brush my teeth first."

"I really don't care, Blaine."

"Well I do," he laughs, though he does lean up and peck his lips briefly. "Standards must be maintained," he grins, hoisting Kurt off him. "Come on. Empty house. We might as well make the most of it and shower together."

"Ugh," Kurt groans and falls into a crumpled ball on the bed. "Too tired."

"And you might like to take a look in that top drawer over there," Blaine adds with a mischievous wink that soon has Kurt crossing the room to pull open the drawer, intrigued.

"Blaine!"

"I bought lube," he says proudly.

"How much lube did you think we'd be needing?" Kurt asks, holding five bottles in his hand and looking at the rest in the drawer.

"There were a lot of different types," Blaine explains. "And I don't intend on going back to that drugstore for a very long time."

"I should hope not," Kurt laughs. "They'll think you're some kind of rent boy."

"Just find the water based one and follow me," Blaine grins impishly, and is gone.

He is already under the spray by the time Kurt enters the bathroom and he stops to brush his teeth- not wanting to be outdone- before joining him behind the curtain where Blaine pins him against the wall and kisses him hard. "Minty fresh," he says, smiling against Kurt's lips. "You are so damn hot," he whispers, tilting Kurt's head back for the shower to wash over his hair and allowing him access to his gorgeously pale and perfect neck which he sucks and bites at. "Did you like me telling you what I wanted to do?"

"Yes," Kurt whimpers, helplessly turned on and beyond happy that Blaine is letting his dominant side show at last. "But I want you to do it."

"Now?"

"Yes."

Blaine's breath comes hot and heavy, ghosting over Kurt's collarbone and making him shiver. "Tell me what you want me to do, Kurt."

"Oh god," he groans. "I want you to suck me. I want you to suck me and finger me at the same time."

Blaine grins, leaning down to flick his tongue across Kurt's nipple, making his breath catch. "With pleasure."

He engulfs him quickly, and Kurt's hands slide into his hair with a groan. "Your hair, Blaine. Oh my god, your hair," he cries, tugging the slick dark curls hard and looking down in awe of the way his fingers look tangled in it as Blaine's head bobs up and down. "That feels so good."

Kurt doesn't know how Blaine's managed to improve- confidence maybe plays a part, but he soon finds himself trembling and pushing Blaine's head closer to his crotch, eager to see how much he can take. It turns out, quite a lot.

"Fuck. Look at that," Kurt murmurs, whimpering his pleasure as Blaine deep throats him. "You look so good." He's so entranced that he doesn't notice Blaine's hands moving up to grip his ass, kneading and spreading the cheeks, but suddenly that pressure is gone and Blaine stops sucking his cock for a moment to pour lube into his hand.

"Ready?"

"Totally," he grins, and raises one leg to rest his foot on the side of the bath.

Blaine takes him in his mouth once more, distracting him as he gently rubs one finger over his entrance repeatedly until he feels the muscle start to relax and he carefully pushes just the tip of his finger inside.

"Fuck!" Kurt cries, and Blaine looks up in alarm. "It's okay," he says, breathing deeply. "It's okay. It feels good. Burns a little but it's like...a good burn."

Blaine smiles, and pulls back with a soft kiss to the tip of Kurt's cock. "Just tell me, if it hurts...Or just scream your pleasure," he adds with a wink.

Kurt huffs out a laugh, and guides Blaine's mouth back to where it's needed most. It seems to take an age- mostly through worry on Blaine's part- but eventually he has two fingers working inside a trembling Kurt, who grips Blaine's hair with one hand and his shoulder with the other, fingers digging in as he closes his eyes and moans.

"Blaine...good...so good."

Blaine pushes deeper, crooking his fingers as he stands and finds Kurt's lips with his own. "Go on," he whispers into his mouth. "Go on Kurt, come for me."

It only takes a couple of strokes from Blaine's hand until Kurt clutches him tight and comes, panting into Blaine's mouth who chases each gasp with a kiss. As Kurt relaxes he withdraws his fingers slowly before Kurt sinks to his knees and sucks his orgasm out of him, leaving them both with delirious grins of pleasure on their faces and sleepy once more.

Curled up in bed, Kurt spooned around Blaine and almost asleep, he suddenly becomes aware of Blaine speaking.

"Huh? Sorry. I think I drifted off."

"I said thank you, for coming to look after me," Blaine murmurs, a sleepy grin on his face. "You didn't have to."

"I didn't have to," Kurt agrees, kissing his damp hair. "But I'm sure glad I did."

"Turn left, Blaine! Just turn left."

Blaine huffs in agitation but turns the car anyway, searching in the darkness for any sign of light from a cabin...or any kind of building at all.

"I think we've been down here. It's just a field," he says patiently to Kurt as he turns the car around. "I'm pretty sure we needed to turn right back there, before that big tree."

"I don't know why you had to go get us lost," Kurt snaps, and Blaine grips the steering well that little bit tighter. "You should've followed the GPS."

"I did follow the GPS," he replies through gritted teeth. "It took us to the start of the track."

"We should've arrived in the light," Kurt moans. "Dad and Carole have been here since four. It would've been easy to find in the light."

"Well we couldn't arrive in the light, I'm sorry, but it is what it is. I'm gonna go back to that tree and take a right."

"We could've arrived in the light if you hadn't insisted on going to your placement."

"I didn't want to let them down, Kurt."

"Whatever. You're putting the needs of a bunch of five year olds before your boyfriend."

"Oh for goodness sake!" Blaine yells, taking Kurt by surprise. "Will you just quit? I have taken the weekend off work, and driven you six hours across the country just so you can be with your family this weekend. I think that says quite a lot about my consideration for you, and your needs. I'm sorry we got lost, I didn't know it was so hard to find. Now, tell me, is that the cabin?" he asks, as the car headlamps sweep over a building with lights on in two windows. "It looks like your dad's truck parked out front."

"Yes it is," Kurt says quietly. "Finally."

Blaine is virtually silent while they greet Burt and Carole and eat the dinner she's kept warm for them. He responds with as few words as possible to their inquiries about their trip, while Kurt pushes the remainder of his dinner around his plate and tries to catch Blaine's eye to offer an apologetic smile, but he's having none of it. They turn in soon after eating, and Blaine stays quiet, using the bathroom and not even offering for Kurt to go first as he always does. By the time Kurt is done, Blaine is curled up on his side, covers pulled up to his neck and eyes shut tight.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," Kurt says once he's in bed next to him with the lights out. "I was really snappy and rude and I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to be spoken to in that way."

Sighing, Blaine turns to face him, eyes blinking big and round in the dark. "It's okay," he says quietly. "I know why you're acting like this."

"Still, it doesn't excuse me."

"It kinda does," Blaine offers. "I know this weekend will be tough on you, and I guess this has been building but I just..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

"No." Kurt reaches out, grabbing his wrist to stop him from turning away again. "It does. Please."

"It just made me feel so useless. The way I feel when my parents start on at me. It's like...like... Five and a half hours of my driving is perfectly acceptable and then, just because we got a little lost it suddenly becomes this catalogue of my mistakes, and I don't know what I did wrong. I didn't mean for us to get lost, and maybe I should have missed my placement but I want to make a good impression... I feel like I'm in between a rock and a hard place."

"Please don't feel that way," Kurt whispers, close to tears. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way and you were right to go to the kindergarten, really. I am sorry, Blaine."

"It's okay," Blaine says, pulling Kurt into his arms and kissing his cheek. "Really. It's over and done with. Let's just move on from it."

"I don't know if I can do this," Kurt whispers fearfully into Blaine's neck, and then he's crying, winding his arms tight around Blaine's neck who slowly and steadily rubs soothing hands over his back. "I don't know if I can spend all weekend remembering him, dwelling on what happened I just..."

"Hey, shh. C'mon," Blaine whispers. "It's okay, it's okay. You can do this. It's important to Carole and your dad. And I'm here, Kurt. I'm here with you."

Kurt nods, swallowing his sob. "Kiss me," he begs. "Kiss me and make me forget."

"I'll kiss you," Blaine smiles indulgently. "But you don't want to forget. Really, Kurt, you don't." He kisses his lips gently. "Come on, be my little spoon."

"You're always little spoon," Kurt says with a tearful pout.

"I know, but tonight you need to be held."

He is right, and Kurt manages a few hours of dreamless sleep in the sanctity of Blaine's arms before waking in the early dawn to lie on his back blinking tears from his eyes. Blaine wakes, saying nothing but kissing the tracks of Kurt's tears gently, brushing the hair out of his eyes before tugging him into the bathroom and into the tub, where Kurt sinks happily under the warm water, resting against Blaine's chest as he washes him gently.

The mood in the cabin is somber, and Carole refuses breakfast, opting to sit out on the porch instead, wrapped in a huge blanket and hugging a mug of coffee. Kurt sits at the table, offering his dad a weak smile which Burt returns tearfully. "I don't need to ask if you got any sleep," he says wearily.

"Not much," Kurt says quietly. "Is she okay?"

"No," Burt answers honestly. "She's reliving every second, I think. At first I thought coming here was a mistake, but she would only have done this anyway, only now she's sitting out there instead of in Finn's room."

"So what do we do?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know. I kinda wanted to take a walk round the lake," Burt says as he rubs a hand over his face. "But I don't think she's wanting to go anywhere right now. You two go do whatever you want. I'll sit here and wait until she's ready."

Kurt nods but Blaine covers his hand. "Actually, Kurt, you know what? Why don't you go take a walk with your dad, and I'll stay here with Carole. When you get back maybe you and I can do something then. It'll be good for you to spend some time alone."

Burt shrugs. "Kid's got a point."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Kurt asks.

"I'm sure," Blaine says softly. "You need this."

Once they've gone, Blaine steps outside, pulling on a thick hoodie and grabbing fresh coffee before sitting down wordlessly on the bench next to Carole and handing her a cup. Together they look out across the wide open space to the trees and the edge of the lake beyond where they can just about make out the unmistakable plaid of Burt's shirt.

"Funny thing," Carole says suddenly into the silence. "This time a year ago, as far as I knew, he was still alive." She nods, more to herself than anything as she bites back tears. "He wasn't, of course. He'd been gone for...ooh, three hours or so." She looks at her watch before sipping her coffee and when she speaks again her voice cracks. "No one knows, of course. No one knows the exact time, because he was alone. They're guessing. But I was just carrying on as normal. No clue."

Blaine stays silent but shuffles closer as Carole smiles tightly. "I was grocery shopping. Only I got held up in line and ended up running late. I ran home and put the cold stuff away, leaving the rest on the counter. I had work, you see. Two til eleven shift. I pulled open the door to leave again and two cops were walking up the path."

"Oh Carole," Blaine says softly, reaching for her hand. "I'm so sorry."

"He knew I loved him," she says, now crying freely. "At least there's that. I had spoken with him the day before, and I told him, as I always did. God, how I loved him. No...no past tense. I still do. I always will."

"He was so lucky to have you, all of you," Blaine says as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

"But he was alone," she sobs. "My baby. Oh he was an adult, sure. So big, tall. Such a presence. But he was still my baby boy. My little one...and he died all alone."

"Carole..."

"I hate this," she cries. "I think of him always, cry for him, smile for him...always. So why is today so tough? Why is it hurting, Blaine? Why is it hurting so much?"

He holds her while she cries, until her heartbreaking sobs subside slightly and he offers her a tissue. "I don't really know what to say," he says honestly. "Except it was always going to be this way. It will get easier over the years, for sure. But you'll always remember the date. Maybe...maybe it would be a little easier if you focused on how he lived rather than how he died? Like... I don't know...um...okay, so Kurt tells me he was really messy."

"He was," Carole smiles through her tears. "A stereotypical teenage boy. His room smelled of socks, and you could barely see the floor. When Rachel was coming over he'd pick up but she still refused to set foot in that room."

"Well I guess that eased Burt's worries," Blaine says, smiling when she laughs.

"Yes. He's terrible."

"So he bonded with Finn over football?"

"He did," Carole nods, sitting up straight and taking Blaine's hand once more as she dries her eyes. "It was nice, you know? Because neither one had had that before. Finn just had me growing up and obviously Kurt had no interest, as you've no doubt realized. Not that Burt minded, or felt like he was missing out, but it was nice for Finn and Burt to have something in common that was uniquely theirs, just like Kurt and I have our baking."

"So you never played football with him?"

"No," she smiles. "I was lucky, we had wonderful neighbors with twins the same age as Finn, he was always in their yard playing with them, and then at school of course."

"C'mon," Blaine says decisively, taking her hand and leading her down the steps of the cabin. "I'm gonna teach you."

"What?" she cries incredulously. "You have to be kidding."

"Nope. I've got a ball in my trunk," he says, popping the lid and retrieving it. "It'll be fun."

The last thing Burt and Kurt are expecting to find when they return from their walk is Carole running across the field, shrieking and holding a football in the air, with Blaine hot on her heels.

"What in the world are you two doing?" Kurt asks when they draw up, laughing hard and panting for breath.

"Blaine's teaching me football," Carole grins.

"Trying to, and failing miserably," Blaine laughs. "I blame my student."

"Thanks!" Carole says, giving him an affectionate shove before turning to Burt. "Blaine suggested we remember how Finn lived, the things that made him who he was, in an effort to lift the sadness."

"And is it working?"

"It really is," she smiles. "But I think it'd work even better if you two were to join in."

Blaine laughs. "Yeah, I can't see Kurt going for that."

"Oh really, Mr. Anderson?" he replies, cockily raising one eyebrow. "I'll have you know I'm a damn fine kicker."

"No way."

"Stand back," Kurt announces. "Watch the master at work."

Their football game turns into a loud, raucous affair followed by lunch, and when Burt opens champagne and proposes a toast to Finn, everyone can smile and raise their glass. In the afternoon they take a long walk and Blaine listens happily to tales from Kurt's childhood up to and including his few brief years with his step brother. Blaine even manages to open up a little and tell Burt and Carole about when they met Cooper a few weeks back, making them both laugh when he recounts the tale of Kurt calling him his beau. Take out and wine in the evening, followed by tv has Kurt and Blaine struggling to stay awake, heads lolling onto one another until their eyes are closed, and Carole smiles indulgently at her husband before gently waking them and sending them upstairs to bed.

"I had like...the best day," Kurt says sleepily when Blaine spoons in behind him without even being asked.

"Hmm. Good. I'm glad."

"Thanks to you."

"Me? I didn't do anything."

"Yes you did. You made us all look on the bright side and be happy. And yes, I'm still sad because he's gone but I'm so happy that he lived, so happy I could call him my brother and so happy we could spend today remembering him just the way he would want to be remembered."

"Oh well, if that was down to me then thank you. But really, I think you've had that inside of you all along. That, and the capacity to kick a football an incredibly long distance."

Kurt laughs, drawing Blaine's arms tighter around him. "I told you."

"You did."

"Never underestimate Kurt Hummel"

"I wouldn't dare."

Sunday dawns bright and cold, a beautiful fall day. Kurt and Blaine take a long walk together after breakfast, wrapped up warm and snuggled close, and Blaine resolutely refuses to allow his mind to wander, focusing instead on the moment, being with Kurt, hearing his boots crunch over the leaves, watching his breath puff out in little white clouds. He stops him on the edge of the wood, just before they return to the cabin, kissing him slowly, trying to taste every inch of his mouth and memorize the feel of Kurt's lips on his.

"I want you to know something," he whispers, closing his eyes when Kurt's arms wind around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair.

"Yes?"

"I have loved every second of this weekend. Being with you, your family... It makes me hope for things."

"Such as?" Kurt asks, trying to remain calm and not jump up and down on the spot when Blaine makes eye contact.

"Such as a future with you."

Kurt huffs out a soft laugh, his cheeks glowing pink from cold and excitement mixed together. "I think...I think that sounds...uh...perfect," he beams. "And something I would very much like, too."

"Kurt, I..."

"Boys!" Burt booms, and Blaine closes his eyes and lets his head thump back against the tree in defeat. "You need to get going if you wanna be back before dark!"

"Well?" Burt asks as he watches the pair drive away.

"I think he's wonderful."

"I know that," Burt says, putting an arm about Carole's waist. "I meant how are you feeling?"

"Good," she nods. "Great, actually. Yesterday morning I wondered why we had bothered coming here, an hour later and I was tackling an nineteen year old to the ground and stealing his ball."

Burt chuckles as he leads her back into the cabin. "Kicking his shins and sitting on his legs does not constitute a tackle. But I'm glad he came," he nods to himself. "Good kid. Fits right in."

"He does," Carole agrees. "Which is good, given that he's probably going to become a permanent fixture."

"What? Did he say something? Did Kurt say something? Already? They've only been dating five months!"

"Oh relax," she laughs. "No one said anything at all."

"Good."

"But mark my words, those two are together to stay."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N- this fic is complete at 17 chapters, and I will be updating daily from now on. Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews so far. I'm overwhelmed with the reaction. Come say hi to me on twitter- mrscriss2012 _

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Back in New York, Kurt begins to notice a subtle shift in Blaine's behavior. The happy, smiling, slightly more confident Blaine gradually becomes overtaken once more by a shy, introverted character who seems to be dealing with some kind of mental torment which Kurt just can't fathom. They still go on dates, and Kurt notes with interest how Blaine relaxes after a while, becoming more like his usual self, but he always seems to clam up again toward the end of the evening, and often goes back to his own place to sleep under the guise of needing to be up early for work or school, though that never bothered him before.

But it's in a group that Kurt notices the change the most. He's so quiet. Not just in a shy kind of way but in a lost alone in his thoughts kind of way. They've become quite the group now, with Rachel, Santana, Dani, Sam and Artie, and a lot of their time is spent in one apartment or another, but Blaine says barely a word.

Kurt arrives home one day to discover Rachel and Sam pulling apart quickly as if burned, and he's not entirely sure what he's walked in on, so he walks right back out again and heads to Blaine's where he rants and rages for a good thirty minutes before Blaine shrugs and quietly tells him that he thinks it's kinda cute.

"That's all you've got to say?"

"I just don't see what the big deal is. If they like each other, if they want to date...why not?"

"Because she's Rachel and he's Sam! And I don't see much dating going on, I see kissing! Or I think that's what was going on, anyway."

"Whatever. It really doesn't matter, Kurt. There's more important things in life to worry about."

"Such as?"

Blaine sighs, exasperated and sets his pen down, pushing his assignment notes to one side. "Such as...ugh. I don't know. Do you wanna get takeout or something? Watch a movie?"

"Can do," Kurt shrugs as he sits down next to him at the kitchen table. "Blaine? Are we good?"

"Yeah," he smiles tightly at his worried boyfriend. "Yeah, we're good. I'm just...dealing with some stuff right now, that's all."

"You wanna share?"

"Kurt, I wish I knew how," he says, shaking his head.

"Is it Thanksgiving? Are you worried?"

"It is that a little, I guess," he admits honestly. "It's always in my head."

"Well it's still three weeks away. Did you talk to Santana yet?"

"Yes, and she's staying here. Dani's going home but I think Rachel and erm...Sam will be here too."

"I see," Kurt nods. "So, why don't we book our flights, huh? You've told your mom and dad that you're coming, so once the flights are booked that's it. No backing out. It might make you deal with things a bit better?"

"Okay," he agrees, frantically trying to work out a time frame in his head, whether to tell Kurt before or after.

"And...could I stay here tonight?" Kurt asks nervously.

"Yeah," Blaine says distractedly as his mind whirls. "Yeah, course."

"Sure? Cause... I don't want to be in the way."

And Kurt sees the moment the box is shut and Blaine returns to him once more, looking up sharply, eyes suddenly bright and sparkling. "You are never in the way," he grins, tugging Kurt to his feet and into his arms. "Even when you're under me."

"That's good," Kurt laughs, hopping onto the counter so he can wrap his legs around Blaine's waist. "Cause that's my favorite place to be."

And things seem to be back on track once more, for a few days at least, until a week later when Kurt sleeps over again. It's fine, the evening is nice and they go to bed and fool around, stifling their moans into pillows with Dani and Santana sitting in the living room watching tv. But Kurt wakes at four, noticeably cold as his portable heater in the shape of Blaine has left the bed. Pulling on pajamas, he creeps out into the living room and then into the empty kitchen before he hears the sound of someone softly crying in the bathroom.

"Blaine?" Kurt says quietly, knocking timidly on the door. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," he chokes out, scrambling to his feet and grinding his fists into his eyes. "Yeah. I'll be right out I just...uh...I cut myself shaving. Stings like a bitch."

"Why in the world are you shaving at four in the morning?"

"Um...I didn't want to wake you up with prickles," Blaine tries lamely and the statement hangs in the air between them as they both realize that never, in the whole six months of dating, has a bit of stubble bothered either one of them. Far from it.

"Okay," Kurt says, hurt. "I'll just...go back to bed and wait for you there."

When Blaine returns ten minutes later, Kurt feigns sleep until eventually he hears Blaine's breathing deepen and even out, and only then does he roll over onto his back, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears of his own. He pads into the kitchen for water, noting from the schedule on the fridge that Santana's shift at the diner starts at six and figuring she will be waking soon, makes her coffee and knocks on her door.

"What the fuck, Blaine? How many times? Leave the coffee outside."

"It's uh...it's not Blaine," Kurt says, embarrassed. "It's me. Can I come in?"

"Oh." The surprise is evident in Santana's voice and there is a large amount of noise before the door is pulled open and Santana stands there, tying a robe around her waist. "Yeah. Come in. Dani's not here anyway."

She takes the coffee and returns to bed, patting the other side for Kurt to join her but he perches gingerly on the end instead. "This isn't easy for me..." he starts.

"But Blaine's acting all weird and you don't know what to do?"

"Yeah," he says, sighing heavily. "I'm really worried about him. Like, I think he needs to see a counselor or something."

"He has one," Santana tells him nonchalantly.

"Excuse me?"

"He has one, goes once a week. He's had one since he was...ooh...thirteen, or so. I take it you weren't aware?"

"No, I wasn't," Kurt says, frowning. "Wow. Okay. So..."

"So like I said, he goes once a week. Wednesdays, I think. Before squash with Sam."

"Has he ever told you what they talk about?"

"Nope. Well, I know back when he was at Dalton he worked through a lot of stuff about his sexuality, who he felt comfortable telling and so on, and that's when he decided he wasn't ready to be out to his family. But since we've been here he's not mentioned anything they're discussing, and I don't ask. He'll share if he wants to."

"You don't know why he's being this way now?"

"No, except he's going home for the holidays and he's always like this whenever he's about to see his parents. And it may still be a week away," she says, holding up a hand to silence Kurt. "But rest assured, Blaine likes to dwell on things, over analyze and panic about every little detail."

"Have you met them?"

"Yup. A lot."

"Oh." And once again Kurt feels the hurt.

"We grew up together," Santana explains. "His brother used to watch us after school if my mom was working, and I often used to go there to study when we were in middle school together."

"And?"

"And they're nowhere near as bad as Blaine makes out," Santana says, looking at Kurt who listens intently. "They're strict, sure. And perhaps not...overly warm. Not like your parents sound anyway, or Rachel's dad's. But they've never mistreated him... He says they always do him down, and I can see that, I guess," she concedes. "I remember being there when he handed his dad his report card and he had one B. The rest were all A's but his dad focused so hard on that B, like Blaine had failed miserably. He went to his room and cried while I went home and got congratulated by my completely over enthusiastic mother on my one B and whole line of C's. The thing is, Kurt, Blaine is a romantic. You know that. But it runs through his whole life. He wants a family to rival the Partridge's. He has not shut up about your dad and stepmom, I think they're what he's been wanting in parents his whole life through. But we none of us can choose our family, we just have to make the best of what we're given."

"And what about the religious thing?"

"Well that's where the wheels really started to fall off, of course," Santana tells him. "Once Blaine realized he was gay, he knew without even asking what his parents and brother would think. So he pulled away. Started boarding at Dalton and became even more shy and introverted than he was already. He shut himself off from them, Kurt, not the other way around."

Kurt sits quietly, astounded at this sudden insight into the man he thought he knew so well. "I just don't get why Blaine would say all this stuff about them if it's not true," he says, baffled.

"Because to Blaine it is true," she says, scooting across the bed to take his hand. "Don't go thinking he's lied to you, because he hasn't, he wouldn't. He loves you..."

"He hasn't said that."

"He does. Trust me. It's just...Blaine sees darkness where the rest of us see light. It's his nature. Being with you helps him so much, Kurt. And he's probably worried about going home to them and not seeing you."

"No, it's not that," Kurt confesses. "He's coming out to them. He's telling them about us."

"Well fuck me sideways," Santana says in awe. "Then you're definitely the man for him. Cause you've managed to achieve what it's taken me four years to try and get him to do, and the fact that he wants to tell them not only that he's gay, but about you too... Yeah. Trust me. He loves you."

"You have a counselor?" Kurt asks, slamming the door back against the wall and waking Blaine with a start.

"Huh? What? Where?"

"You have a counselor," Kurt repeats, a little calmer at the sight of adorable, sleep-mussed Blaine struggling to work out what's going on. "And you didn't tell me."

Blaine sits, yawns and stretches before crawling across the bed. "Excuse me a moment," he mutters, pulling open the door. "Thank you!" he yells loudly, and Santana's voice comes back.

"Welcome!"

"He's gonna think I'm a nutjob!"

"You are a nutjob!"

"Hate you!"

"Hate you more!"

"Okay, okay," Kurt snaps, out of patience and closing the door tight. "You two are worse than siblings. Speak to me."

Blaine sighs heavily, sliding up against the headboard. "Yes, I have a counselor, no I didn't tell you. Not for any reason than I was ashamed and frightened you'd be scared off getting involved with me. I haven't been in ages, actually. Not that she knows that," he says, with a mutinous glare at the closed door.

"Okay," Kurt says, practising his calm and rational voice. "Do you want to tell me why you haven't been going?"

"I haven't needed to," Blaine says simply.

"Do they know about me?"

"Yes. Well... Simon, that's him, knows I met someone, and that we were dating. And that's why I didn't need to go, because...because with you, it's all okay," he says with a bright smile.

"It's not though, Blaine, is it?" Kurt says kindly, taking his hands in his. "Let's be honest here. For whatever reason, you're not in a great place right now, and you won't tell me why. And that's fine, if you can tell someone else and talk it through with them. But you're not doing that at all."

Blaine runs a weary hand over his face. "Kurt, I want to. I want to talk to you, to open up to you so badly but I just... I just don't know where to begin and I'm terrified of losing you."

"You won't lose me, Blaine."

"Promise?"

"I promise but I...ugh. I have to go, because I've gotta get home to change before college. Meet me as usual?"

"Yeah."

"We can talk this through some more."

But at six forty five that evening, Kurt slams into his apartment, sending Sam scurrying to sit in the armchair and make it look as if he's been there all along, as Rachel smoothes her skirt. "I uh...I thought you were seeing Blaine," she says in surprise. "You usually do, on a Tuesday."

"He stood me up," Kurt says, still in shock as he heads for the kitchen and the cookie jar.

"He what?"

"He stood me up! Me! Ugh."

The slam of his bedroom door has Rachel sharing a worried glance with Sam before running to her friend, who is now shovelling cookies into his mouth at an alarming rate.

"Every Tuesday we meet at six fifteen," he explains, needing no invitation to vent. "Have done since our first date. I'm further away, so I leave class at five thirty, getting to the coffee shop at six. He knows this. Blaine finishes at six, arrives at six fifteen and we have coffee and split a cookie or muffin before going on a date. Always."

"Wow," Rachel says quietly. "You two know how to live."

"Anyway," he says, ignoring her completely. "At just gone six today, I get a text saying he's not coming. That's it. No explanation, nothing, just "can't make it." That's all! Why couldn't he have walked the few blocks to tell me in person? Huh? I don't understand what the hell is going on with that boy."

"Well you're never going to, sitting on your bed ramming cookies in your face. Go talk with him. Santana's coming here this evening anyway, so you'll have the place to yourselves. In fact, I'll text her now and tell her to stay here tonight."

"I'm not going running to him," Kurt pouts, and Rachel is on her feet in seconds, tugging him up and handing him his bag.

"Don't you dare be so stubborn, Kurt Hummel. Go talk with him and stop him from hurting, how many times has he made it better for you? He's probably out of his mind with guilt and worry and panicking over what he should do. Now get out of here," she says, tugging him through the apartment and pushing him through the door. "And don't come back until tomorrow morning."

"Bedroom," Santana says when she answers the door. "Rachel says don't return until tomorrow. Tell Blaine I'll go right to work from your place. See ya."

"Oh. Um...goodbye," Kurt says to the already closed door, and he makes his way to Blaine's room to find him curled up on his side and staring at the wall. "No gel?" he says lightly, sitting on the bed and sliding his fingers into Blaine's silky curls. "Must be a bad day."

"I couldn't face it," he whispers. "I couldn't face looking at you."

"Thanks."

But the joking is lost on Blaine, who sits and hugs his knees close to his chest, looking out his window rather than at Kurt. "You know a while ago, you asked me if I hate myself, and I said not anymore?"

"Yes."

"Well I think it's fair to say that I do, actually. Right now I hate myself very much indeed and I wish I didn't exist at all."

"Um...okay," Kurt says, shuffling up to sit by his side in an identical pose. "Do you know why? Is it a multitude of things? Or one thing in particular? Is it us? Being with me?"

"No, no. Being with you is...wonderful," he breathes. "Magical and incredible and all I ever dreamed of."

"Blaine, forgive me, because I'm trying to understand here. I don't get how you can be so depressed, battling all these demons and yet yesterday evening was lovely together, at the weekend we went to that multi-cultural fair in battery park...and then you're standing me up yet simultaneously claiming you still want to be with me."

Blaine laces their fingers together, looking down at the way they fall so perfectly in line. "When I'm with you it's like...it's like you create this vortex that sucks everything else into oblivion and it's all just you, nothing but you. And it's perfect and wonderful and where I want to be, always. Kurt, being depressed doesn't mean I don't ever want to do anything. It's always with me, in here," he says, tapping the side of his head, "always threatening to bring me down. Yet you obliterate almost all that feeling. But today, when I was sitting in my final class I just suddenly...couldn't. And I can't explain it any better than that, I'm sorry. I just can't."

Kurt nods slowly, looking ahead for a long time before he speaks quietly. "I think you need to go back to your counselor." He notices Blaine is crying then, silent tears that fall steadily. Whether through fear, humiliation or just through being entirely overwhelmed, Kurt doesn't know. But it does prompt him to put an arm about his shoulders, pulling him close so his head rests on top of those soft curls as he speaks. "Blaine, sweetie, I'm not mad that you stood me up, okay? So let's put that behind us and forget it ever happened. I'm also not at all mad that you're feeling this way, because it can't be helped. But you need to overcome it, because feeling like this isn't doing you any favors. And you need help that I just can't give. Plus, if you're still planning on Thanksgiving..."

"I am," Blaine says quickly. "I am. I'm telling them."

"That's great," Kurt smiles. "But I think it would be advisable to have a support network in place for that. You have me, of course, but I'm worried, because you can't pin everything on me. I've a feeling you did that with Santana before I arrived and now you've got what you have with her plus physical affection...which is fantastic, but you say you dream of a future together. And if that's the case, Blaine, then you can't use me to block things out all the time. Because if we're gonna have a future together that means real life. Not hiding away in here cuddling all the time. It means living together, working, grocery shopping, balancing checkbooks... Facing all it's got to throw at us and not shying away. I want that more than anything, and I want you to achieve that too."

Blaine nods. "Okay. Yeah. I'll call in the morning."

"I can come with you, if you want me to," Kurt offers. "I can just sit and wait, or come in with you, or I can wait here for you...whatever."

"Well the sessions are an hour, maybe I could go on my own for the first half and then you could join me?"

"Only if you want to," Kurt says gently.

"Yeah, I do, actually. I think it would help. A lot. I'm just sorry," he says, starting to cry once more. "I'm sorry because I feel like I've let you down, and I didn't want to do that."

"You haven't let me or anyone else down," Kurt reassures. "Just promise you'll call in the morning."

"I will," Blaine says firmly, and Kurt can tell he means it.

"And maybe in the meantime, you'll let me make you feel a little better?" he says as Blaine eyes him skeptically. "Please? You're always cheering me up. Not just me either, that weekend at the cabin you worked your magic over my entire family," Kurt smiles. "Please, just let me take care of you." He moves slowly, Blaine's wide eyes reminding him of his sheer terror when they first kissed, and he doesn't want to frighten him. Sliding one hand up to cup his cheek, Kurt smiles before gently rubbing their noses together then grazing his lips over Blaine's, who sighs audibly and lets his eyelids flutter closed for Kurt to kiss over them, then his cheeks, down along the line of his jaw and finally back to his lips once more, firmer and more insistent but still loving and tender as Blaine slowly reclines on the bed with Kurt on top of him.

It doesn't take long for Blaine to forget and for things to become heated, shirts to be pulled over heads, pants shucked and hot kisses to be pressed along collar bones and over nipples, a deep and profound need from both arising- for Kurt to be the caregiver and for Blaine to let himself be loved. Kurt places a soft kiss to the hollow of Blaine's throat and pulls his leg up around his waist, letting his hand wander to the top of his thigh and around, fingers digging into soft flesh as Blaine whimpers and opens his eyes.

"This making me feel better thing," he says roughly, rousing Kurt from his ministrations on his neck. "Would it involve you fingering my ass?"

Kurt roars with laughter, batting playfully at Blaine who laughs with him as they tumble onto their sides. "Well," Kurt manages to get out. "Well..."

"Hmm, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine teases, feeling relaxed and happy in his giggling boyfriends presence.

"A little bit, maybe," Kurt concedes, still laughing.

"I'd like to point out that is not how I make your entire family feel better," Blaine says primly as Kurt doubles over helplessly.

"God, you know how to ruin the moment!"

"I'm not dumb," Blaine grins, stealing a kiss. "I knew the second your hand started to wander that was what you were after. You should've just asked if you wanted to do that."

"How do you word something like that, though?" Kurt cries, trying to hide his blush. "Oh, Blaine, you know how you make me come with your fingers? Well tonight I'd like to switch. I wanna finger you until you scream my name?"

"That'd work," Blaine shrugs, laughing wildly when Kurt tackles him back down onto the sheets.

"Hey, Anderson, I wanna finger you until you scream my name," he whispers darkly, and Blaine's choked off laugh becomes a whimper and then a squeak of pleasure when Kurt reaches back and cups his ass, squeezing hard.

Settling himself by Blaine's side, he tugs away the rest of their clothes and pours far too much lube onto shaking fingers which trail gingerly over Blaine's balls and back toward his entrance. "You okay?" Kurt whispers. "Cause I'm petrified."

"I'm okay," Blaine smiles. "Cause I see how much you enjoy it so..."

"So what if I'm not as good at doing it as you are?"

"So... what if you're better and I come as soon as you touch my prostate?" Blaine throws back, making Kurt smile, then shake his head.

"Uh-uh, you're making me feel better. Quit with that. This is me taking care of you," he teases before dipping the very tip of his finger inside. "And attempting to be a halfway decent lover."

"Ku-urt?" Blaine squeaks, gasping as he feels himself involuntarily clench tight around Kurt's finger.

"Yes?"

"Listen to me," Blaine says earnestly, cupping the back of his neck with his palm. "You are my perfect lover, okay? Perfect because...well, because you are," he says, deciding now is not really the best time to declare his undying love. "And this just feels really...really good," he says, breaking off to moan long and low in his throat when Kurt drags his finger nearly all the way out before pushing back in. "Oh holy shit I want you so bad," he groans.

Kurt watches in stunned amazement at the way Blaine unravels before him, fisting the sheets and arching high off the bed as Kurt stretches him slowly, adding a second finger and then a third, moving to kneel between his legs and pulling them up around his waist.

"Feels good," Blaine cries, screwing his eyes shut and trying really hard not to reach for his cock and finish himself off. "Oh Kurt... Just...take me."

But Kurt is mesmerized by the new angle, the clear view of his fingers inside Blaine, working him ever closer to the edge while he tries to block out the aching throb from his own ignored cock. "Oh god, Blaine...Blaine, open your eyes."

He does, meeting Kurt's blue ones instantly and beaming when he sees him kneeling there, one hand resting on the top of Blaine's thigh, cheeks flushed as he bites his lip. "Oh god Blaine," he says desperately. "Can I?"

"Yes." Blaine is sure, certain, grasping for the lube on the pillow and pushing it into Kurt's hand.

"Are you sure? I mean..."

"Yes."

Kurt nods, offering a dazzling smile of his own before leaning to kiss Blaine's lips. "Okay."

He removes his fingers carefully before smearing himself in lube, eyes searching Blaine's all the while but there is no doubt or hesitation at all, just a gentle, reassuring hand on his waist and another on his arm as he settles between Blaine's legs again. Pushing inside is easier than he anticipated and he has to mentally hold back from burying himself as deep as he can, especially when Blaine tilts his hips up, locking his legs around Kurt's waist. He stills, deep inside and amazed at the tightness and heat of Blaine surrounding him, the connection between not only their bodies but also their hearts, and when he notices Blaine blinking back tears, he offers a trembling smile and leans down to kiss him. "I am completely head over heels for you, you know," he says shyly- not quite an affirmation of his true feelings but enough, as Blaine pulls him into a long, passionate kiss and hopes his tongue and lips can convey his own heart better than he can vocally.

"Same," Blaine grins.

"And now I'm gonna make you scream," Kurt adds wickedly, making Blaine laugh.

"I'm fucked."

"Not yet. You will be, though."

And he cuts off any more laughter by slowly drawing his hips back then sliding deep inside once more, both of them gasping as their pupils dilate with pleasure. So he does it again, and again, and then keeps it up, building in speed and intensity each time until they're both panting and groaning, their bodies sweaty and slippery as they slide together and Kurt marvels at how easy it actually is to do something so incredible.

"Kurt," Blaine moans, his fingers digging desperately into Kurt's back. "I need to..."

"Yes," Kurt pants, shifting his weight onto one side as he reaches for Blaine's cock. "I want to do it," he says, pressing his forehead into the damp curls over Blaine's temple.

"Kurt!" And Blaine does scream his name, loudly and repeatedly when the change of angle has Kurt grazing his prostate and with two short tugs, Blaine comes harder than he ever has, clenching so tight around Kurt's cock that he's unable to move as Blaine shudders, falls still then shudders once more and falls weakly back onto the bed, tugging Kurt closer to him.

"Blaine I..."

"Keep going," he moans weakly, and Kurt drives deep, hard and long until he's quivering and pulsing inside of him, his arms giving out and bringing him down onto Blaine's chest who holds him tightly and ignores the sticky mess.

"What in the world have we been waiting for?" Kurt asks, his voice rough and tired.

"I dunno," Blaine murmurs, beaming up at the ceiling without opening his eyes. "But that was the best orgasm I have ever had. Ever."

"Same."

"I don't know if I can walk to the bathroom."

"Do your legs feel like jell-o? Mine do," Kurt mutters, winding his arms tight around Blaine's neck. "Maybe we just stay like this."

"I need to clean up," Blaine says reluctantly. "What goes up must come down."

"What... Oh! Ew," Kurt chuckles, rolling off him. "Stay there. I'll bring you back a washcloth."

They clean up quickly and haphazardly, figuring they'll shower properly in the morning, and Blaine flings the washcloth into the hamper then settles into Kurt's arms, both now close to sleep. "That was just incredible," he says happily as Kurt murmurs his agreement. "You're incredible. And I... Oh...you're asleep," he whispers, smiling indulgently at the way Kurt's mouth hangs open and he snores softly. "Cutie. I'll tell you in the morning."

Kurt wakes slowly, squinting into the bright fall sunlight to see that he is lying on his front, cheek resting on his folded arms with Blaine mirroring his pose and studying him intently. "Hey," he croaks out, smiling at the memory of the night before as he lets his eyes fall closed again.

"We're married."

"Someone's been dreaming," Kurt says, the dopey smile still on his face.

"We got married in Vegas, and I keep the marriage certificate in a shoebox under my bed," Blaine says, his voice soft, quiet and steady.

"You're funny," Kurt chuckles, then opens his eyes and lifts his head slightly. "Hey, you know what? If we ever do get married, we should totally do it in Vegas."

"I'm not joking, Kurt." Blaine says in that weird monotone which finally has Kurt taking notice. "And I haven't been dreaming. You and I got married in Vegas. Neither of us had any recollection of it, but when I was in your room that morning I found the marriage certificate and I panicked. I stuffed it in my pocket and ran back here. I tried to get it annulled but I couldn't without your signature and I didn't know how to find you... Only then I did...and- and you were you. The most wonderfully perfect person I'd ever met...and I didn't say anything...and now here we are."

Kurt scrambles backward out of the bed, one arm hugging across his stomach as the other flutters up to rest at his throat, almost as if helping him to breathe. "You...I..." he starts, eyes growing larger by the second. "I'm married to you?"

Blaine sits, fiddling with the drawstring on his pajama pants as he mumbles a shameful and contrite "yeah," without looking up.

"And you've known all along?"

The tone of Kurt's voice has him looking up sharply, because rather than the anger he had braced himself for, Kurt is cool, calm and collected, his voice dangerously low and controlled.

"Yeah."

"I am seriously, totally, legally married to you?"

"Um..." Blaine fumbles under the bed quickly, setting a well read piece of paper on the covers. "That would be a yes."

"Eight months," Kurt states, his breathing rough and shallow as he glances at the marriage certificate. "Vegas was nearly eight months ago. We've been dating for six of those...and you didn't tell me?"

"I-I-I...the thing is," Blaine starts, not really sure what the 'thing' is but desperately trying to salvage the situation. "At first, like I said, I couldn't find you. Then, when I did, I'll admit that initially, my motives were purely selfish. I liked you. A lot. I couldn't stop thinking about you, not only because of the marriage thing but because I knew, however inebriated I was, that you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen and that we had enjoyed the best night together. That's what stuck. Out of everything. The things we did were all a blur but the emotions were not. And when we found one another again I was so happy and you were so nice and...and I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to know the touch of your lips on mine."

His voice softens and his eyes fill with tears as he notices Kurt slowly shaking his head, as if he doesn't want to hear all this but Blaine knows if he doesn't say it now he never will. "So selfishly I allowed myself that one night, which of course, because I'm me, I messed up entirely. Then the second time I was selfish again, desperate to know what it would feel like to hold you all night long, and I resolved to tell you in the morning, only..."

"Only I ran out on you," Kurt says quietly.

"Yes. And...the rest unfolds from there, I guess. I wanted to have my first date with you, because I figured if you were gonna run a mile I might as well be left with a memory of a happy date with you... But then I stopped being selfish and started falling in love with you...Kurt," he says, swiping at tears and heaving a deep breath. "I love you. I love you beyond all measure and I'm so sorry, so incredibly sorry that I didn't say anything to you until now."

"You _stopped_ being selfish?" Kurt says, incredulous at Blaine's words and refusing to dwell on the last part. "You _stopped_?"

"I..I...I tried?"

"Tell me, Blaine," Kurt says, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to control the anger he can feel building. "Tell me. At any point, did you even try to say anything?"

"Yes," Blaine nods firmly, hoping this will help. "I really did. A few times, actually. The first time I stayed at yours for the weekend, but I backed out, and ended up asking how you'd feel if I dated anyone else. And then off and on, when it would hit me, I'd try to say something but you'd think I was being cute and shy, and you'd kiss me until I couldn't remember my own damn name, let alone anything else. But when we went back to Ohio, when your parents were so sweet and kind and accepting...and Carole told me I'd always be welcome there..."

"Oh my god," Kurt whispers. "That was it. That was the change. When you came upstairs and seemed so upset."

"Yes," Blaine agrees. "But you and her had both said about the cabin and I knew I couldn't tell you either about the marriage or that I loved you. I tried, that last morning in the woods but I couldn't sabotage your memories with that when you'd been so happy that weekend, remembering your brother."

"So you waited until...what? Until you'd completely non-selfishly lost your virginity?"

"No, it's not like that. I've been struggling, you know I have, and you were so patient and kind yesterday, everything just fell naturally into place and that happened. And I woke up this morning and watched you sleeping and I knew I had to tell you because I can't go on like this, Kurt. It's destroying me, any progress I had made with my depression has disappeared these last few weeks because this is in my head the entire time."

"You knew you had to tell me today, but that's hasn't occurred to you over the last _eight months_?"

"I just..."

"Who knows?"

"...tried to..."

"Who knows?" Kurt shouts, making Blaine draw up short.

"No one," he says quickly. "I haven't told a single soul. Not Santana, my counselor...no one."

"EIGHT MONTHS!" Kurt screeches, his eyes bugging out of his head in anger as he finally loses it and tears at his hair desperately. "We've been married EIGHT FUCKING MONTHS AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT TO TELL ME?!"

"There just wasn't..."

"Don't tell me there wasn't the right time, Blaine," Kurt rages, picking up the tv remote and hurling it at the wall behind Blaine's head. "Don't you fucking DARE! The right time to tell me was when we were still in fucking VEGAS, you jerk! Before you ran out on me and left me to assume it was a one night stand gone wrong, when we could have panicked together, got an annulment together and then laughed about it as we fell in love."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine says quietly. "I..."

"When were you planning on telling me, I wonder? When I proposed to you? Huh? When I'm down on one knee were you just gonna casually say 'no need to bother with all that, cause actually we've been married for the last three years?'"

"No!" Blaine cries indignantly. "Hang on, wait. You were thinking of proposing?"

"Not imminently, and certainly not now," Kurt snarls, his cheeks flaming red at being caught out. "But..but...oh for fucks sake! I love you too, Blaine. I've been in love with you for months. Or I thought I was, anyway. Now I'm not so sure."

"No...no, no..." a horrified Blaine whispers, hands reaching out to touch Kurt who steps backward immediately. "You have to believe me, Kurt. I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I didn't set out to hurt you, I just didn't know how to tell you. I was too nervous at first, then too captivated by you and finally so deeply in love with you that I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you."

"Don't touch me," Kurt hisses, yanking on his jeans and shirt over his pajamas. "Don't fucking come near me ever again, you hear me? Never again, Blaine, I swear."

"No, Kurt, please," Blaine begs, jumping from the bed and following Kurt into the living room. "Please, we can work through this. We love each other, we're meant to be, I know we are."

"No we are NOT!" Kurt screams. "How can we be, when you've deceived me like that? Huh? The only thing we can work through, Blaine, is a fucking divorce, which YOU will be paying for!"

He finds his boots and pulls them on, snatching his scarf from the back of couch and phone from the coffee table.

"Kurt!" Blaine sobs, reaching out and trying to grab his wrist. "Kurt please, I'm begging you, don't go. Please! I'm so sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to marry you..."

Kurt lets his head fall back against the living room wall with a thump, and it is then that he cries, grinding his fists into his eyes as he sobs hard, choking around his words. "You don't get it, do you Blaine? You just don't get it. I'm not mad about the marriage part! I'm hurt beyond belief that you never told me! That you dated me, made me feel like I was your entire world, let me FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU! And you never...once...said...anything."

"Oh god," Blaine whispers in despair, sinking to the floor as his vision starts to swirl in front of his eyes. "Oh god, Kurt..."

"You know the saddest thing of all?" Kurt asks in a tearful whisper, staring down at Blaine huddled on the floor as tears cascade down his cheeks. "I dreamed of marrying you."

A loud wail of despair comes from Blaine, hunched over and pulling at his hair as quietly, a broken hearted Kurt closes the door, and is gone.


	12. Chapter 12

"Okay," Santana trills with an overly bright smile. "We have two cheeseburgers, one caeser salad and...hold up." Dumping the rest of the plates on the table, and oblivious to the baffled stares of the customers, she fishes in the pocket of her apron for her cell phone. "Blaine?"

"Hey! Santana! No cell phones, how many times?"

"Whatever, Carlos," Santana snaps at her boss as she strides behind the counter where it is slightly quieter. "Blaine?" she says again. "Speak to me."

But Blaine cannot speak, and all Santana hears is a scream of anguish followed by violent, desperate sobbing the like of which she has never heard from anyone her whole life through.

"Oh Jesus Christ. Okay," she says decisively, taking off her apron and slinging it on the counter. "Stay there baby, I'm on my way." She hangs up and casts a quick glance across to her boss as she heads to the door. "Gotta go, my roommate's broken."

"What?" he yells. "You can't just pack up and leave! You're in the middle of a shift!"

"Oh look at that, I just did."

"I could fire you!"

"You could, but you won't," she says airily. "I bring in customers and you know it."

"That girl!" Carlos rages as she saunters out the door. "Why is she always right?"

Santana is home in twenty minutes. Out of breath with having run the entire way from the subway station, she bursts through the door to find Blaine, still huddled on the floor in his pajamas from when Kurt had left three hours ago, phone clutched loosely in his fist as he rocks back and forth crying pitifully.

"Blaine? What the hell happened?" Santana asks with concern. She kneels next to him, hauling him up until he's draped over her, his puffy wet face pushed into her neck as he cries with gratitude.

"You came," he rasps. "You don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" she asks, dragging him to the couch where she settles with him in her arms. "Please tell me what's going on? You're scaring me. I've never seen or heard you like this."

"He's gone," Blaine cries before breaking down again. "Gone."

"Who's gone? Kurt? Has Kurt gone?"

Blaine nods against her dress, now soaked with his tears.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," Santana soothes, rubbing her hand over the back of his head. "Why's he gone? He can't have gone, gone, right? I mean, he wouldn't just dump you, surely?"

"I accidentally married him."

"Um... You what?" she asks. Pushing him up until he's leaning wearily against the back of the couch, she eyes him strangely. "How the hell do you accidentally marry someone?"

"And Kurt didn't know."

"Blaine, you may as well be speaking Russian right now. For the love of all things gay, explain to me what the hell is going on here."

"In Vegas," Blaine says quietly, choking a little on the place name. "We got married in Vegas. I knew. I don't remember it, but when I woke up I found the marriage certificate and I ran out on him. I told Kurt this morning when we woke up."

Santana is silent for a while, trying to figure out if she's being punked, or if Blaine is high, or both before she looks at him again and realizes this is no joke. "You two have been married all along?"

Blaine nods.

"And you just told Kurt today?"

He nods again.

"Holy fucking hell." She pulls back from Blaine and sits staring into space, hands folded under her chin while she tries to make any kind of sense of anything at all. "Okay," she says eventually, turning to her wreck of a best friend. "Okay. It's not the most ideal situation, I'll admit. And you've managed to actually render me speechless... But okay. We'll sort this out."

"We can't," Blaine says, shaking his head despairingly. "We can't. He hates me...and I'm pretty sure that by now Rachel and everyone we know will hate me too."

"I don't hate you," Santana says softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It might not be a lot, but I will love you, always."

"Thank you," he whispers gratefully. "That does mean a lot, really, so thank you."

"Knowing you, I take it you didn't mean to keep it from Kurt? You just didn't know how to tell him, am I right?"

"Yes," he says, becoming animated as he seizes on her understanding. "Yes. I would never..."

"And that's what you meant, when we came home that day and you were saying you'd done something terrible."

"Yes."

"Oh Blaine," she sighs. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't know," he wails. "Lots of reasons. I felt like I owed it to Kurt for him to be the first to know, I was scared that you'd laugh at me, tell everyone..."

"But I would have helped you, Blaine. I could have helped you track him down but most of all I could have eased this mental torment. Christ, I don't know how you've lived with it."

"I fell in love," he whispers. "I could forget about it because I was too in love to care, only then, when it became less about the falling and more about having fallen- when Kurt and I were discussing a future together and I started to realize this was it for me- for both of us- it hit me that he needed to know. Because our future couldn't start until Kurt knew about our past."

"So you told him because..."

"Ironically, I told him because I wanted to marry him." He runs a hand over his face and sits a little straighter, "It doesn't feel like being married, you see. But...but I was planning on coming out to my parents, telling them about Kurt and then asking him to move in with me... After consulting you, of course," he adds when he sees the look on her face. "And in an ideal world I'd propose, he'd say yes and we'd spend the next few years saving for the most wonderfully romantic wedding and...ugh," he sighs, slumping back into the couch.

"Barf," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "But I have to say, you two are meant to be. I feel..."

"Yes! Yes we are!" Blaine cries loudly. "You see, I told Kurt that...and he even admitted that he dreamed of marrying me but..but..I took that dream away from him."

"Okay Blaine, listen to me," Santana snaps. "Don't you dare do this. You did not take his dream away. You both did something incredibly dumb, but I can't imagine that you took Kurt prisoner and forced him to speak his vows. You're in this together, Blaine. You didn't tell him and that was horribly wrong, but you know that already. Now you two need to talk, if only to arrange a divorce or annulment, but I would hope you can still find your way to stay together after all this is done. Come on," she says, standing and dragging him to his feet. "Get dressed."

"What? No. Why?"

"Because we're going to pay Kurt a visit."

"No!" Rachel screeches when she opens the door. "Go away!"

But Santana is quick, and wedges her foot in the door before Rachel can close it again, slamming it back on its hinges and stalking right past her into the apartment. "Give it a rest," she snaps. "Blaine needs to see Kurt."

"No," Rachel says firmly. "You two are not welcome here ever again."

"What? Me? Why me?" Santana cries indignantly. "I didn't do anything!"

"Yes you did, you sided with him," Rachel snarls, glaring at Blaine who tries to blend into the wall. "You two seem to think this is some kind of game, well it's not. You don't keep something like a marriage a secret- especially from your own damn husband!" she screams, making to hit Blaine but Santana stops her quickly.

"Do not touch him," she hisses, voice low. "Or I will end you. And don't you dare insinuate that I had something to do with this, or knew about it because I did not. If I had known I would have tried to help, but Blaine didn't tell a soul. So, instead of bickering and fighting let's try and sort this mess out, shall we? Cause I don't know about you, _Berry_," she spits, "but right now I'm kinda terrified about what Blaine's gonna do to himself if this doesn't get resolved."

Rachel shakes her wrist free, tugging on the bottom of her sweater and chewing her lip thoughtfully before looking at Blaine who blinks and stares back, eyes bloodshot and swollen.

"Kurt isn't here," she says, quieter and calmer and suddenly filled with a pang of sympathy for him. "He's gone home."

"What?" Blaine whispers. "No. Please...no."

"I'm sorry, Blaine, but he's gone. He was only here an hour before catching a cab."

"Home...that means Burt and Carole know," he says, horrified as Rachel nods. "Oh shit."

He stumbles and the girls catch him on either side, exchanging worried glances as Rachel ushers him to the couch. "I don't know what to suggest, Blaine... Maybe Sam could help?"

"Oh please." Santana rolls her eyes as she sits opposite. "He's still wandering around believing you two are somehow related. He's not gonna be any use. How long has Kurt gone for?"

"I don't know," Rachel shakes her head. "He came home crying and so upset. He told me what had happened and I suggested he call his dad to talk with him. Next thing I know he emerges from his room with a suitcase saying his dad had managed to get him on the next flight out of here and he'd call me in a few days. I'm guessing he won't be back until after Thanksgiving at least."

"But that's another four days away!" Blaine cries. "I can't wait that long, Rachel! I have to see him, I just have to. I can't..." he breaks off to swallow a sob, tearing at his hair once more. "I can't just leave it all like this it's...it's all so fucking useless!" he shouts, breaking down. "I'm so fucking useless! Why did I ever go to Vegas? Why? People like me don't go places like that. People like me don't meet people like him and people like him don't fall in love with people like me and THIS IS WHY!" he yells, completely out of control as he rises to his feet and paces the room, kicking the edge of the couch in frustration. "This is why... Because people like me fuck EVERYTHING UP! I wish I could just vanish from the face of the earth! I wish I could disappear forever, saving him the bother of ever having to deal with all this shit. I wish..." He stops pacing abruptly, facing the wall and slamming his forehead into it, hard. "I wish he would love me again," he whispers despairingly as his anger gives way to sadness and he cries like a small child. "I just want him to love me again."

"Blaine, Blaine, you listen right now," Santana says, rushing to him and taking his face in her hands. "He will love you again, I promise, even if I have to spend my whole life fighting for this to happen."

"You won't have to," Rachel tells her quietly as she settles on the floor and pulls Blaine into her arms. "You won't have to because he will never stop loving you, Blaine. I lost my soulmate, I won't stand by and watch him lose his."

He sleeps, eventually, for a fitful couple of hours while Santana and Rachel lament, dissect and discuss every little detail in between texting Kurt and getting no response and smoothing Blaine's hair.

"So...now?"

"I don't know," Rachel sighs, looking down at Blaine's head resting in her lap. "Maybe you two stay here for a few days? Or I move into yours? Either way, I don't think Blaine is well enough to be left alone right now."

"He's not," Santana agrees sadly. "He's not been well for a while, I don't think. Because of all this. And I didn't notice."

"No one did," Rachel says kindly, reaching for her hand. "Don't blame yourself. Hell... I can't even find it in me to blame Blaine anymore. I just...want this sorted. For all our sakes." She swipes at her tears, gasping when Blaine suddenly sits.

"I have to go home."

"Oh. Uh...okay," Santana agrees rapidly, getting to her feet. "Sure. We can uh... You know, Rachel was suggesting she stay with us awhile..."

"Not home here. Back to Ohio."

"What? Blaine, no." Rachel rests her hands on his shoulders, trying to get eye contact but Blaine is wild, possessed with his idea and he pulls out of her grip, grabbing his coat and stuffing his feet into his old sneakers.

"I have to. We can talk, get the annulment sorted and then maybe, just maybe, he'll agree to...to...to something. To talk to me again at some point, maybe? Date me again sometime in the next hundred years? I don't know. But I have to see him."

"Then I'll come with you," Santana declares, but Blaine stops her in her tracks.

"No. I appreciate your concern...both of you. But I have to do this alone. I have to..." he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. "I am the only one who can pull myself out of this. It's sink or swim time for me right now and I choose to swim...whether that's with or without Kurt. Santana, you are an amazing friend, but I've been reliant on you and Kurt for my happiness. That can't be. It has to come from myself. I've made a shitty mistake and I've hurt the one I love. I can only apologize and hope to make amends but either way... I have to pull myself out of this and stand on my own two feet."

"There's a flight to Columbus leaving at four," Rachel says, looking up from her phone. "That gives you enough time to go home and pack...but tickets are eight hundred dollars."

"I think this classifies as an emergency credit card use," Blaine says with a tight smile, pulling it out of his wallet and handing it to her. "Dad will hit the roof, but he'll learn why soon enough."

"You're still gonna come out to them?" Santana asks.

"Yes. Whatever happens, I'm fed up of worrying about what other people think. What does it matter?"

"I can't see your dad letting you keep the credit card, for a start."

"Then I may as well make the most of it," Blaine nods, hugging her tight.

"All booked," Rachel says with forced brightness. "Now go. Get your man. And remember to call us. Daily. Twice a day, in fact."

"Okay," Blaine says, surprising her with a hug too. "Love you," he says, as he kisses Santana's cheek. "Both of you."

Blaine rushes home, throws a haphazard assortment of clothes into a carry on, knowing he'll have no time to check luggage, and tears out the door again, hailing a cab and fishing his cell phone out his pocket once he's settled inside.

"Blaine?" The surprise in Cooper's voice is evident when he answers. "Who died?"

"No one. Are you working today?"

"No, I've just finished a stretch of nights, I've just woken up. Why?"

"I'm coming home."

"For Thanksgiving, yeah, I know. I promised mom I'd come to dinner."

"No, now. I'm coming home now and I need you to meet me at the airport at six."

"What?" Cooper cries. "You what? Why are you coming home now? Dad said you're flying in on Wednesday."

"Well I'm not," Blaine replies coolly. "I'm flying in now. Right now. Can you meet me?"

"What's going on?"

"Can you meet me or not?" Blaine snaps.

"Yeah I'll meet you, but you'd better start explaining the second I see you."

He's there ready and waiting for Blaine's flight to touch down and when his brother emerges, Cooper wastes no time. "Well? And don't tell me nothing, because you never fly home unexpectedly."

"I need you to drive me to Kurt's," Blaine announces, striding determinedly toward the exit.

Cooper hurries after, completely confused. "Why?"

"I just need you to drive me to Kurt's," Blaine repeats.

"I'm not driving you anywhere until you explain what's going on."

"Fine," Blaine huffs, turning on his heel. "Then I'll rent a car."

"You will not," Cooper sighs, hauling him backward by his rucksack. "Come on."

They get in the car and go, with Cooper still eyeing Blaine warily as he sits in silence and sends a quick text to Santana. "So where is Kurt, exactly?" Cooper asks, noticing how his brother tenses at the sound of his name. "I thought he would be flying in with you."

"He's home already. That's why I need to go there. I have to see him."

"Don't you both have college? And jobs?"

"Shit!" Blaine cries, thumping his forehead. "Work. Goddamnit."

"No need to curse," Cooper says with disapproval as Blaine fires off several frantic texts to Sam. "But why is Kurt home already?"

"He just is," Blaine snaps. "Now drive."

Cooper rolls his eyes but says nothing, and over an hour passes with just the radio playing quietly in the background and the occasional sound of Blaine texting back and forth to explain his absence from work and class.

"Next exit," Blaine eventually says, and Cooper nods.

"You know, it's probably good you came home now," he says, trying to make light conversation. "We're due snow tonight or tomorrow. A bad storm, apparently."

"Right."

"If I can get to mom and dad's on Friday we could build a snowman like we used to when you were little?" Cooper offers with a tentative smile.

"Not really in the mood."

"You never are."

"What does that mean?" Blaine snaps. "How the hell would you know? You never see me."

"Exactly. Cause you're never in the mood for remembering you have a family," he snaps back, and Blaine sulks down low in his seat as the GPS directs them toward Kurt's house.

They reach the house and Cooper pulls over, cutting the engine and turning to look at Blaine who looks sick with fear. "You want me to come in with you?"

Blaine turns, surprised by the kind gesture, but shakes his head. "Thanks but I uh...I need to go alone. I just...wait here, okay?"

"Sure."

He climbs the porch steps, hands shaking as he presses the bell and waits, bracing himself for the sight of his husband, but Burt pulls the door open with a short, sharp, "Leave."

"Burt, please," he begs. "I just..."

"You just nothing," Burt snarls. "You have broken my boy, Blaine, and you're no longer welcome in my house. Now leave."

"Please, let me explain."

"What's to explain?" he cries, incredulous at his nerve. "You kept the fact you were married a secret for eight months!"

"But...Kurt, though," he implores. "I need to see Kurt."

"You know what?" Burt growls, stepping outside and forcing Blaine off the first step. "The marriage part was a dumbass move on both your parts. But you never said a single word about it. You clearly cannot be trusted, Blaine. Not only have you broken Kurt's heart but you've betrayed myself and Carole after we welcomed you into our home. Now get the hell off my property before I call the cops," he yells, slamming the door and leaving Blaine to sink down onto the bottom step, his lip trembling as he tries not to cry.

Cooper is over the road in a flash, helping him to his feet as he tries to work out what he's just witnessed. "Is that his dad?" he asks as he directs him back to the car.

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing he doesn't like you."

"He did," Blaine sighs. "Until I fucked everything up."

"Please don't curse," Cooper says offhand. "Where now? Home?"

"Mom and Dad's, I guess," Blaine grumbles.

"So...home," Cooper says, driving away.

"Mom and dad's."

"You know what, Blaine?" Cooper flares suddenly. "I've had it with you, and this petulant attitude of yours. Mom and dad's house was your home. You know perfectly well what I mean."

"It's never been my home," Blaine snarls. "A home is a place you feel relaxed in, welcome... which I don't when I'm there."

"Oh be quiet!" Cooper yells. "Just what is your problem, huh?" He pulls over sharply, coming to rest in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot where he finally turns to face him, and Blaine doesn't ever recall seeing him so angry. "You need to grow up, Blaine. Mom and dad are not monsters, and yet you seem to have painted them that way in your imagination for some absurd reason. Why? They've never done anything to you! I said when we met for coffee, you need to work out what it is that's making you so unhappy, making you hate yourself so much and then the rest will follow. Well I hope you do soon, kid, cause otherwise you're gonna destroy all of us."

"I'm gay!" Blaine screams, then sucks in a sharp breath as he realizes what he's just said. "I'm gay," he repeats in a soft voice that trembles with emotion. "I'm gay, and I know exactly what they're gonna think about that, which is why I haven't told them and I've spent five years living with it like it's some kind of dirty secret. I've known all my life, I guess," he says in a hushed tone as Cooper listens patiently. "And that's why. That's why I can't ever feel like I'm accepted by them or you because I know that if they know the real me, they'll disown me. I've never subscribed to their way of thinking, but when I was fourteen and I knew for certain where my attractions lay, and I knew the name for what I am...I knew I had lost any chance I ever had of them or you loving me, for me."

"Blaine." Cooper's voice is hoarse as he stares ahead, not knowing what in the world to say or do, or how to comfort him.

"And I'm in love with Kurt."

Cooper's head falls forward, thumping onto the steering wheel before he looks up and faces him, swallowing hard. "I know you are."

"What?"

"When we met at the airport that day, you were different. Snappy and on edge at first, and then came that bizarre apology to Kurt, and you declaring you weren't ashamed of him. He went to check on your flight and I watched, as he walked away. I saw the way you looked at him, and I started to wonder. I looked back, Blaine," he says quietly, two tears escaping as he notices Blaine crying. "I looked back just before I stepped outside and I saw you kissing. I was shocked," he concedes as Blaine rolls his eyes. "Because I'd never seen two men kissing before. But you looked...I don't know...so happy. Happier than I'd ever seen you, anyway. And that hurt- to know that someone who is a stranger to me could make you happier than your own family ever has. I've spent a lot of time thinking about it since. What I should do, if anything. Whether I should tell you I knew, or tell mom and dad...or what."

"And? Do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you," Cooper says in surprise. "You're my brother. Your sexuality makes no difference to me. But your happiness does. Which is why I think you should tell mom and dad, so you can get on with living your life as free and as openly as you want."

"I'm going to," he nods. "At thanksgiving."

"With Kurt."

"Uh...no." Blaine offers a watery smile. "Kurt and I...we've been dating since may but uh...I think we kinda broke up."

"Since when?"

"Since this morning," he says, marvelling at how long ago that seems.

"Can I ask why?"

"I inadvertently married him."

"Excuse me?"

"Kurt and I... We're married."

"Fucking hell!"

"Please don't curse," Blaine says with a wry smile. "Lots of other words will suffice."

"Not in this instance it won't," Cooper says in stunned disbelief. "You two are married? And now you've broken up? Jesus fucking Christ, Blaine! Never mind being gay, mom and dad will certainly disown you for this little stunt! What in the world were you thinking?!"

"I don't know," Blaine admits. "We were drunk. We got married in Vegas and neither of us can remember it."

"Hold up," Cooper says, rubbing a hand over his face. "You went to Vegas in April. You met Kurt there."

"I did. And I married him that night."

Cooper's voice- when he finds it- is dark and low, a warning to his brother to stop messing about and start explaining. "Blaine..."

"I told Kurt this morning, but I've known all along."

"Okay," he declares suddenly, clapping his hands together loudly. "Out of the car. We're gonna need coffee and donuts."

It takes over an hour, but Blaine explains the lot. Cooper listens patiently, never interrupting, and encouraging him to continue when he struggles to go on. He even finds himself telling Cooper that he lost his virginity the night before, something he knows he wouldn't even be able to admit to Santana, and he's surprised by how calmly Cooper takes it all. When they've finished, and empty cups litter the surface of the table, they head out into the cold night air and Cooper drives them back to Westerville, the atmosphere between them lighter than it's ever been, and Blaine feels as if an unfathomable amount of progress has been made in their relationship.

"I have to go to a meeting tomorrow morning," Cooper tells Blaine. "But I'll pick you up after lunch and we'll go to an attorney, get the papers sorted."

"You don't have to do that," Blaine says quietly. "You've listened and you haven't judged. You've done more than I could have ever hoped."

"If that's the case then I'm glad, but you still need to see an attorney. I know a good one. You can't just stay married to the guy."

"I know, I know but..."

"But you wanna make up, I get that. But you also have to understand how angry Kurt will be right now. We can get the papers sorted and then you have reason to drive to his house again at least. Even if he won't see you, at least his dad will know you're trying."

"I guess."

"And if you want my advice...I wouldn't tell mom and dad about this. It's not going to be easy for them to hear that you're gay. You know they don't agree with it, and you know mom will probably think it's New York that's turned you that way. Better to just leave it at that confession for now. If we can get the annulment sorted quickly then they need never know."

"Can I still get it annulled? Now that we've...consummated it?"

"I think so, on the grounds of you both being inebriated when it happened," Cooper nods.

"Okay. Can I ask, what do you think mom and dad will say about me being gay?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Cooper sighs as he pulls into their driveway. "I think you have to brace yourself for a lot of anger and upset, followed by many a suggestion of helpful bible passages and offers of therapy to change your mind."

"Oh."

"But I can talk with them, if you'd like? I don't believe you can change your sexual preferences. It's just how we are. I've read a lot about it these last few weeks. I might be able to give them some links to websites that could help."

"Thank you," Blaine whispers gratefully. "Thank you for everything, all your help and being so understanding... It wasn't what I expected at all, so thank you."

"Blaine?" He looks up, eyes shining with unshed tears in the darkness. "I love you, just so you know."

"Love you too."

"Okay," Cooper grins. "Come on. Enough with the sentimentality. Mom and dad will be waiting."

"Oh," Blaine says as he suddenly remembers, "they don't know I'm coming."

"Blaine!"

When Blaine wakes the next morning he struggles to remember where he is, then when he rolls over and crashes unceremoniously to the floor, he remembers he's in his own smaller childhood bed in his parents house and it all comes flooding back. They had answered the door timidly, peeking through the safety chain, possibly expecting a distressed member of the congregation or someone else in need, but it was Cooper, and the door was thrown open- then they had faltered at the sight of Blaine standing meekly alongside. Still, his dad had put on a brave front, Blaine supposed, declaring that it was wonderful to have him home for longer than expected while his mom had clutched her hands to her chest despairingly and worried about the fact that his room wasn't ready.

Cooper had departed not long after, promising to come back tomorrow, though when he pulled open the door it was snowing hard and as Blaine lay in bed that morning looking at the bright light coming in through the curtains, he guessed it was heavy outside. It was strange, he mused to himself as he pulled on a hoodie and found a pair of socks, how his dad had followed him into his room that night, after his mom had made the bed and panicked that she couldn't find the matching comforter. He had stood in the middle of the room, and Blaine had hovered uncertainly by the bathroom door, eventually asking his dad outright what he wanted, to which his dad asked if he was okay because he looked... But he didn't finish his sentence because Blaine didn't want to hear it, cutting him off and barking that he was fine before he went and hid in the bathroom until he heard him leave. He had cried hard that night, picking up his phone several times to text Kurt and then figuring he would wait, like Cooper advised, until he at least had the annulment papers as a peace offering.

"Good morning, Blaine dear," his mom smiles as he enters the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

Blaine shrugs, walking past her to pour himself coffee. "Okay, I guess." He helps himself to a banana and a piece of toast, nodding at his dad as he enters the kitchen and he makes to leave.

"Blaine?" his mom calls after him.

"What?"

"We sit at the table for meals, and we say grace before we eat," she says with a pointed glance at his mouth as he chews the toast.

"You might," he says as he swallows. "I don't."

"Well we do," his dad interrupts, pulling out the chair next to him and patting the seat. "And while you're in this house you'll respect our rules."

Blaine sulks into his chair, scowling and deliberately taking another bite of his toast when his dad bows his head. "Let us pray."

The doorbell rings and Blaine leaps up, grateful for the distraction. "I'll get it," he calls, already halfway down the hall.

The breath is knocked from him when he pulls open the door and sees Kurt standing there, bundled up in a big parka and red scarf, cheeks and nose red from cold and his breath puffing out in front of him. They say nothing, just stare at each other for a long time while Blaine tries to recall ever having seen him looking more beautifully sad than he does at this moment in time, framed by snow, his face so open and sincere, eyes swimming with tears as he opens his mouth and whispers a shy "Hey."

"Hey," Blaine returns, willing himself to hold it together and not break down and fall at his feet. "How did you...?"

"Santana told me you were flying back, gave me your address. My dad said you came."

"Uh...yeah. That didn't go too well."

Kurt lets out the most adorable squeaky and tearful laugh ever, and Blaine grips the door tight to keep from tackling him into a hug.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Kurt admits. "I mean, I'm still mad as hell but..."

"That's okay," Blaine rushes out. "Really. Be mad. You're entitled. I just...Kurt, I just..."

"Blaine?" He visibly winces at the sound of his mom's voice carrying down the hall. "Blaine? Who is it?"

But Blaine says nothing, his mind scrambling for an answer while Kurt stands there awkwardly, his eyes flicking over Blaine's shoulder to see his parents coming down the hall. "Hello there," his dad says, extending his hand. "Brian Anderson, this is my wife Mary. Can we help you?"

"I uh...I..." Kurt stammers, all words lost as he looks at the three of them, Brian and Mary standing either side of their son, hands resting possessively on his shoulders. Not knowing what to do, he casts a pleading glance at Blaine, who swallows audibly.

"Uh...mom, dad...this is...someone from New York," he whispers pitifully, his whole resolve crumbling there and then.

Kurt suck in a sharp gasp, blinks hard and shakes his head, backing away before turning and running to his car.

"Kurt!" Blaine yells, tearing after him, but Kurt's hands, although shaking, are quick and he pulls open the car door and jumps inside, starting the ignition as Blaine runs after him. "Kurt! Please! Please, Kurt, I'm sorry! Please!"

"Blaine!" Mary Anderson reprimands. "Get inside. You're making a spectacle of yourself and you don't even have your snow boots on."

"KURT!" Blaine is screaming desperately now as the car drives away and he runs down the road. "Please come back Kurt...KURT!"

But Kurt is gone, ignoring the stop sign and skidding around the corner as Blaine sinks into the snow and cries.

"I will never understand that boy," Mary mutters to her husband as she turns and heads back inside. "Please ask him to wear his snow boots in future."


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine hauls himself to his feet when the wetness from the snow seeps inside his underwear, and he trudges wearily back up the road and inside, pushing past his dad who stands in the doorway watching his every move. Brian gives him half an hour, during which he hears the shower running then silence for a while followed by the sound of crying. He doesn't knock, in Brian's mind a family should adopt an open door policy at all times and Blaine knows this. Still, he stays curled up under his duvet, forcing his dad to clear his throat to announce his presence.

"Can you leave your door open, please?"

"Nope."

"Um...Blaine?" Brian asks the covered mound. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

"Nope."

Blaine stays still, hoping his dad will get the message but he guesses not by the dip on the end of his mattress. "Is there anything you'd like me to pray with you about?"

The mound moves, and Blaine pulls the covers from his head to sit and give his dad a withering glare. "No."

"It might help," his dad offers, but it only serves to anger Blaine further.

"Well it's been of fuck all use for the last nineteen years, four months, two weeks and three days, so I fail to see why today would make any difference," he snaps, falling back onto his pillows. "Sorry," he says meekly. "I didn't mean to curse. I'm just angry."

"I can see that," Brian says calmly. "But you know my stance on cursing. I'll let you off this time, but if I hear it again you will be grounded."

"So?" Blaine shrugs. "Not like I've got anywhere to go."

"Who is he?"

"Who is who?"

"Don't play dumb," Brian snaps. "The man you chased down the street...who goes by the name of Kurt, apparently, and whom you seemed pretty upset about when he left."

"A friend."

"Really?"

"He was," Blaine says sourly, turning to face the wall once more.

"I've never heard about him before."

"Why would you? There's no point in telling you anything, you're not interested."

"I'm trying to help, Blaine."

"You can't," Blaine says, the bitterness evident in his voice. "I'm beyond help."

"Well I don't believe that," his dad says, standing and shaking his head sadly. "But I can't help at all if you won't let me."

Blaine sleeps until two, when he wakes to hear Cooper's footsteps on the stairs and a hushed conversation in the hallway with his mom. "But where are you going?"

"Just out, I told you," Cooper whispers back.

"Don't be evasive," she reprimands. "I expect it from him, but not from you. Something is going on with that boy, I'm no fool. Does it have to do with this morning?"

"How would I know that? I wasn't here this morning."

"You weren't, but a boy was. And Blaine was just staring at him. Letting all the heat out. When I asked him who he was, Blaine said he was someone from New York. The boy drove away and Blaine chased after him in his socks, Cooper. And he was yelling. I was so embarrassed. Whatever must the neighbors think?"

"Kurt was here?"

"That's his name," Mary nods. "Ah-ha! If you know his name you know who he is. Tell me, has Blaine been fighting? Is all this over a girl? Did he steal that boy's girlfriend or something?"

"Uh... No," Cooper says, struggling not to laugh. "There's no girl involved."

"Tell me, has he found a church he likes in New York yet? And why did he come rushing home? Who is that boy?"

"Mom I..."

"Oh, you're here," Blaine says, suddenly, sparing his brother any more awkward blushes by opening the door and smiling brightly. "I was worried you wouldn't make it. Excellent. Let's go."

"Where are you going?" Mary persists, trailing them back down the stairs. "You two never go anywhere together."

"Snowball fight," Cooper beams at her. "Blaine's coming back to mine for a snowball fight."

"What's wrong with doing that here?" a now thoroughly confused Mary asks. "We've got an enormous yard. You've got an apartment."

"With a park opposite," Cooper points out, opening the door and shoving Blaine outside. "The snow is better in Columbus."

"Twenty minutes down the road?"

"Yep," he says brightly. "See ya!"

Slamming the car door shut, he puts it quickly into reverse and drives away, growling his displeasure. "I hate lying to her."

"It was you who said not to tell them."

"I know. So, Kurt's been here?"

"This morning, yeah."

"And?"

"And I fucked up."

"Again?" Cooper asks, ignoring the cursing.

"It's all I know how to do, evidently. Mom and dad asked who he was and I couldn't tell them. I just said he was someone from New York."

"Which he is," Cooper reasons aloud. "But I'm guessing that must've stung like a bitch."

"I'm impressed."

"Thank you," he laughs. "I don't get why you didn't just say it there and then, if you're planning on telling them anyway."

"Because I have this whole little speech planned in my head," Blaine moans. "I know how I want it to go."

"I'm pretty sure Kurt knew how he wanted it to go too," Cooper tells him. "And you've blown that out the water entirely. I don't get it, Blaine. He's very much the wronged party in all of this, yet he drives through a heavy snowstorm to get to you...and you tell mom and dad he's just someone? Would it have killed you to have given an declaration of undying love? It's all Kurt needed to hear."

"Oh... fuck off."

"Which means I'm right."

"Does not."

"It does and you know it. Anyway. You're in luck, cause I spoke with Jim this morning and he said he can have all the papers ready for us, you just need to give him a few more details- Kurt's date of birth and address and so on, then they're ready to sign. If you take them to Kurt today then a copy of the annulment will be with you in a week."

"So I have to see him again."

"I thought you wanted to?"

"I do, but..."

"So shut up then."

Their time in the attorney's office is brief, Blaine shows him the marriage certificate, and the citation for annulment goes down as intoxication from both parties rendering them incapable of making an informed decision. The forms are printed, Blaine signs the relevant boxes and then they're put in a file to hand to Kurt. All done, they step outside to walk back to the car.

"Wow." Cooper whispers. "A failed marriage and still only nineteen. I don't know whether to be stunned, proud or ashamed."

"Leave me alone," Blaine snaps, bright red with embarrassment. "We've all done stupid things when drunk. Well..." he pauses, cocking his head to one side as he thinks. "Most of us have, you've probably never even been drunk."

"I got a tattoo of a dolphin on my butt," Cooper says with a nod as Blaine's jaw falls open. "Spring break, two thousand and four. No, no one else knows...except the tattooist and Jemima, who I was dating at the time... and no, you're not seeing it."

"Haven't you slept with anyone since?"

"What? What business is it of yours?"

"Because if you have, that means others have seen it. And I want to."

"I don't believe in sex before marriage."

Blaine snorts. "Oh please. I'm not dad. I think you and I are past the pretenses now, don't you?"

"I...well...I..."

"Thought so. Now show me your butt," Blaine teases, making to grab at Cooper's pants.

"I am not showing you my butt in a parking lot when it's below freezing," Cooper laughs, shaking his head as he dodges Blaine and unlocks the car. "Get in."

But Blaine is on a roll now, pulling open the drivers side door and trying to wrestle his brother into the car. "Inside then. Get in the car and show me your damn ass," he growls.

"For the last time, Blaine!" a now exasperated Cooper shouts. "I am not showing you my butt!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're gay!"

Blaine pulls back, hurt, casting his eyes downward as he steps backwards and almost slips, and Cooper automatically makes to grab him. "Don't," he snaps bitterly. "Just...don't touch me. The gay might rub off."

"Blaine...please. I'm sorry," Cooper pleads, horrified at his own words. "That was totally out of line and I'm so sorry."

"So if I wasn't gay you'd drop your pants and show me your tattoo?" Blaine asks as Cooper closes his eyes in anguish. "You really think I'd be...what? Turned on by the sight of your ass, just because I'm gay? My own brother? I'm gay, Cooper, not sick in the head."

"I know, I know," Cooper cries, reaching for his wrist as Blaine makes to walk away. "I'm trying, okay, Blaine? I'm trying to understand, to accept...and I stepped way over the line. I'm so sorry. Please. I'm trying to be a better brother, I'm trying to be a friend to you."

"Just...forget it," Blaine says sadly, shaking his head. "I'll get the bus home. Wouldn't want to contaminate your car."

"Blaine," Cooper calls. "BLAINE!"

He turns back, eyes going wide when he is faced with Cooper's back...and bare butt... facing him. Arms held aloft, pants and boxers bunched around his ankles and ignoring the startled stares of passers by, Cooper looks back over his shoulder. "Come see, then get in the car before I'm arrested for public indecency!" he calls, and Blaine runs to him, laughing.

"Fucking hell," he cries, staring at the dolphin tattoo while he yanks Cooper's pants up. "You're crazy."

"No, I'm sorry," Cooper corrects, fastening his pants. "Really. That was terrible of me."

"It was, but I'll let you off," Blaine smiles, knowing how sorry he truly is. "Cause it's not as terrible as that tattoo."

"I'm proud of it, actually. Reminds me that once upon a time I knew how to have fun."

"Do mom and dad know?"

"Given that they're still speaking to me, I'm guessing probably not," he laughs. "Here." Pressing the car keys into Blaine's hand, he crosses to the passenger side. "Drive me home then go to Kurt's."

"But you..."

"Can sit at home and wait for you to return," he says, climbing in the car. "Just make sure you stick to the speed limit."

Blaine sits in the car for the longest time, staring at Kurt's house and trying to work up the courage to go over there and knock. He works through a million and one scenarios in his head, but eventually- remembering his declaration to Santana and Rachel about taking charge of his own destiny- he picks up the file and goes, heaving a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Carole answers, and steps forward as if to take him in her arms but he hugs the file close to his chest and stares down at his shoes, too ashamed to even look her in the eye.

"Oh Blaine," she says softly, and he shakes his head and swipes angrily at a lone tear.

"Kurt," he whispers, and she nods and gestures for him to go inside.

"He's in the kitchen."

"Thank you," he says gratefully, relieved at having been allowed in the house.

"Blaine?"

He stops in the hallway, looking up fearfully and Carole finds herself unable to say all she really wants to, not wanting to scare him off when she knows how badly both boys are hurting, and how desperately they need to talk to one another.

"Burt's due home in fifteen minutes," she says, and Blaine nods quickly before stepping into the kitchen.

Kurt sits at the table, study books spread across it but Blaine guesses not much work has been achieved by the blank piece of paper in front of him. Two mugs of tea sit there, and the chair pushed back from the table tells Blaine that Carole had been with him, but she's made herself scarce now, and Kurt and Blaine are alone.

"So...I have the papers," Blaine says, quietly setting the file down.

"Right."

"If you uh...if you sign them now I can return them by express mail. The annulment will be on our doorsteps when we get back."

"I'll do it later," Kurt mumbles without looking up.

"You hate me, don't you?"

"No," Kurt says firmly, finally meeting his gaze and oh, what a heartbroken look it is. "No I don't hate you. I feel like I should, but I don't. I love you. I desperately love you and for whatever reason- and you'll think me completely crazy...I don't want to sign those papers."

"Kurt that's dumb," Blaine says, shaking his head. "Because then we'd still be married and..."

"And I've dreamed about marrying you since our very first kiss."

"Kurt..." Blaine finds himself in anguish, not knowing what to say or do for the best. "Please..."

"I never believed in love at first sight," Kurt carries on. "I just found it annoying that after our night in Vegas, I couldn't forget you. You had invaded my heart and I couldn't figure out why. But then, when we met again... It was enough to make me almost start believing in some kind of god," he says with a sad smile. "I fell for you instantly, Blaine. And when you kissed me...oh..." Leaning back in his chair, his eyes fall closed for a second as he allows the happiest of memories wash over him. "You were perfect for me. And when I think about it, although I can't remember anything from that night, I can see why I thought it a good idea to marry you. I woke up hungover to shit, but I was excited. That was my first thought. I was so excited because I remembered your eyes, the way you acted like the perfect gentleman and I was lying there, still assuming you were lying next to me and I reasoned that this needn't be awkward at all, because we would both be embarrassed but we would both get to know each other... Only you were gone. You were gone and I was alone. But any anger I had about that disappeared when we met again... Because that night, when we kissed, I fell. And I kept falling. On and on until all I could ever hope, all I could ever dream about, was being able to call you my husband."

"Don't," Blaine cries. "Please don't. You know I've dreamed that too."

"But you betrayed me!" Kurt sobs, holding his head in his hands as Blaine stands there watching. "You betrayed all my trust and I don't know if I can ever get that back! You know what, Blaine?" he asks, standing and facing him. "I want to. I really do want to. I want to say to you it's okay, because I know you...better than anyone, I'd like to think. And I know how much you struggle to tell people things for fear of being reprimanded, or not liked, or for fear of upsetting someone. I also want to tell you to shred those papers, to stay married to me and for us to work it out. That's what I want to do, Blaine...I just don't know if I can."

"I uh...I came out to my brother."

"Really?" Kurt asks in surprise, swiping at his tears and stunned at the sudden turn of conversation. "So what did he say?"

"He was surprisingly great. About all of it. He already knew, from seeing us together. The marriage thing was a shocker, but he took me to the attorney to sort the papers and actually...yeah. Things between us are better than they've ever been. Ironic, really. He did say Mom and dad will be horrified, probably disown me...the usual, but then I've been expecting that anyway. I want to disown me, but that doesn't seem possible, unfortunately."

"So are you going to tell them about the marriage too?"

"Yes," he says decisively. "Cooper said I shouldn't. That I should just tell them I'm gay but...but I have to tell them everything. I kinda need to anyway, to explain all of this," he says, gesturing between them. "So...yeah. I guess it's easier to hit them with a slew of disappointments all in one sitting. But...I just wanted you to know that I'm not ashamed of loving you, that's all. You know? We are both basically declaring to each other that it was always our intention to marry. It was maybe not as we'd hoped but it happened, and if I hadn't messed everything up, we could have made that commitment work. So yes...I'll tell them everything. They won't be proud, or pleased. But I hope they understand that though I'm not proud of my drunken actions, the reason I didn't tell you was because I love you too much to ever want to hurt you."

"That's what hurt the most, you know," Kurt says quietly, without looking up. "When I showed on your doorstep. More than you not telling me about the marriage, what hurt the most was the shame you felt."

"Kurt," Blaine says sadly, his voice cracking. "I wasn't..."

"You were ashamed of me," he says, shaking his head despairingly as two tears travel down his cheeks. "You were embarrassed to say who I was, what I meant to you. I wasn't even expecting you to have told them we were married, but I did think you would have told them you'd met someone special. But you didn't. I can even understand you not coming out to them before but...but...but I thought I would have been worth it to you to tell them there and then. Obviously not."

"Kurt..."

"It was like a punch to the gut, Blaine, with an added twist of a knife thrown in for good measure. 'This is...someone from New York.' It's played over and over in my head, Blaine. You didn't even call me a friend. Not even a friend."

"Kurt!" Blaine interrupts sharply, causing him to look up in surprise.

"What?"

"Will you come with me? To tell them?"

Kurt looks down again, thinking hard before giving a small shake of his head. "I don't think I can. I'm sorry Blaine. I need more time to think things through, to figure out how the hell I move past this, and the grand gesture has come too late for me, I'm sorry."

Blaine nods, his voice trembling as he nudges the papers into Kurt's line of vision. "Sign them," he says quietly. "Let's just get the annulment and then...I don't know...In the New Year maybe, we can meet to talk again. But for now, I think you need this to move forward. I understand," he says, though his tears flow almost uncontrollably. "And I don't blame you one bit. I love you, Kurt. I will love you for as long as I live and although I've acted terribly, I'm so proud that for a moment, however brief, I got to call you my husband."

It is a miracle he makes it back to Cooper's apartment in one piece, struggling to see the road through the blizzard and his own tears, but he does, and flops onto his couch to tell him everything, including his decision to tell their parents about the marriage. They talk late into the evening until the snow eases slightly and Cooper drives him home, promising to stop by after his shift the next day. That night he calls Santana, and ends up on speaker to her and Rachel, who both try and cheer him up, reminding him that Kurt isn't cutting him off entirely, and congratulating him on giving Kurt time to heal.

"You've been the bigger man here, Blaine," Santana says. "I'm proud of you."

"He hasn't really though, has he?" Rachel chimes in. "When you think about it. Because if he'd just come clean in the first place..."

"Shut it, Berry," Santana snaps. "I'm trying to give the guy a boost. Anyway," She says, turning her attentions back to the phone. "Take as long as you need. Rachel is filling in for you at the record store..."

"She's what?" Blaine cries. "Rachel, you do know I'll want that job back, right?"

"Of course," she says airily. "Does the same apply to your bed?"

"My bed? Why are you in my bed?"

"I've moved in. Temporarily," she adds hastily. "I figured we could sort living arrangements properly when you return. Maybe even get somewhere for all four of us... Though that's hardly going to work if you and Kurt aren't..."

"Okay, I'm going," he snaps, actually relieved to hear a knock on his bedroom door. "My dad wants me. Talk soon."

Stalking across the room, Blaine pulls open the door, phone still in his hand. "What?"

"Door," Brian says simply.

"I was on the phone."

"Have you been crying?"

"No."

"Talk to me, Blaine," Brian implores. "Please. Something has happened, something big. And Cooper knows."

"Cooper doesn't know shi...anything."

"He does," Brian says knowingly, stepping into the room and steering Blaine to sit on the bed. "But that's not important. What's important is that something is upsetting you, and I need to know what it is."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're my son," Brian says in surprise. "And I love you."

"No you don't."

"That's what you think?" he asks, hurt beyond belief. "You think I don't love you?"

"Not as much as you love that god of yours."

"Blaine." Brian sits up straight, looking down at his surly boy disapprovingly. "The two are in no way comparable. But God gifted your mom and I with two wonderful sons and we love you both, very dearly. I can't believe that you would ever think otherwise, and to tell you the truth, Blaine, you don't always make it easy to love you, but we do it nonetheless. I am so disappointed in your attitude. Like we've somehow offended you by our very existence. Might I remind you that you played a very active role in the church, growing up; and then suddenly, aged fourteen it was as if a switch had been flipped. Church became the mortal enemy to you, and I tried to make you go whenever you were home from school, but it became patently obvious that tactic wouldn't work. So I let it slide and I pray every night for your return. I don't know why you're so angry at me for what I choose to believe, Blaine."

"I'm not angry at you for that!" Blaine yells, rising to his feet and pacing the room. "I'm angry at you because you try to shove it down my throat all the time. Do I want to pray? Have I read this passage of the bible? We say grace before meals, no cursing and on and on... And then, you sit there, telling me how much I've hurt you and how I've disappointed you and I'm just expected to sit and listen and not react in any way at all."

"I don't think telling you that you've hurt my feelings is unreasonable, Blaine. Far from it. I think it's better to be honest with each other. But you won't be honest with me, and so I really don't know how I'm supposed to help you. Maybe, if you sort whatever it is out with this boy, then you might be able to resolve the issue with us. Now go to bed, please, it's late."

Kurt sits stock still in his car, ignoring the cold as he waits for the numbers on his phone's clock to turn to seven am, then he dials.

"Huh?"

"It's me," he says, unable to keep from smiling at his favourite sound of groggy, sleepy Blaine.

"Oh...hey. Uh...Hey," he repeats shyly as his brain starts to slowly catch up with his mouth. "It's uh...It's really early."

"I know. But I never could resist you when you've just woken up."

"What? Who? Who couldn't resist what?"

"Me, you," Kurt explains, though it makes no sense to Blaine whatsoever. "For some inexplicable reason I've been sitting at the end of your road for the last half hour, waiting for you to wake."

"My road?"

"Your road."

"Stay there."

Blaine hangs up and tears down the stairs, nearly colliding with his dad. "I'm going out," he says, grabbing his coat from the closet.

"What? It's seven in the morning, Blaine!"

"I know," he says, smiling up at his dad. "But I'm still going out."

Brian pulls up short when he notices the spark of hope in his son's eyes and nods curtly, holding the door open for him without another word.

"Brian?" Mary calls. "Did Blaine just run past the window and jump the hedge?"

"Yes dear."

"Does he have his snow boots on?"

Brian watches as Blaine slips and skids down the road in his loafers before coming to a halt in front of the familiar car from yesterday. "Yes dear," he says quietly, stepping back inside and closing the door.

"What are you...whatever time did you leave home?" Blaine asks in awe as Kurt steps from the car, closing the door and leaning against it.

"Four thirty."

"Kurt..."

"I have the papers," he says, handing an envelope to Blaine, whose face falls.

"Oh. Right. Thanks," he mumbles, turning the envelope over in his hands.

"You should probably check them to see that I've done it right," Kurt says quietly.

Blaine nods and looks inside, frowning in confusion as his hand reaches in and pulls out a handful of shredded paper. "Kurt," he says slowly. "This...it's all shredded."

"Be my husband," Kurt says, causing Blaine to look up sharply.

"What?"

"Be my husband," he repeats, mouth twitching into a smile as his eyes shine. "Stay with me. Be mine. We're too good for an annulment, you and I. We're meant to be. And I know," he says, holding up a hand to prevent Blaine from speaking. "I know I told you we weren't, but I was angry and hurt. Things are far from perfect, Blaine. It will take me time to build up that trust again, but I know it was never your intention to mislead me. I know why you did it, I just wish you hadn't done it, does that make sense?" He smiles as Blaine nods, too stunned to be able to form words. "You still need counseling too," he adds. "I think that's important. For us, but also for yourself. Don't let depression beat you, because I know you don't want it to, and I have to admit to being impressed that you've been proactive in this- flying here, coming to my house, seeing your brother...even sorting the papers. But I don't want this marriage to end, Blaine. I want it to begin. I love you with a depth of feeling I never thought possible, and I simply cannot let you go."

"But you...You can't just forgive me like that," Blaine whispers, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling. "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"I disagree," Kurt says with a shrug. "Putting the whole 'not telling me we were married' thing to one side, I think our relationship has evolved into something pretty fantastic, don't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"We have a lot of fun together, we don't argue, we share the same interests and have managed to form a really great group of friends. I think sometimes- and I know I'll sound like Santana here- but I think sometimes you're inclined to hold your own pity parties when they're really not needed. Because this is about all you've given to me too, Blaine. You've helped me become more confident, because you've made me feel safe enough to be myself at long last. You've helped me get through my grief for Finn and come out the other side smiling and remembering him fondly. You've given all of yourself to us, to being a part of this relationship so please, don't tell me you don't deserve my forgiveness because to me, what you have given far outweighs one minor mistake."

"But you," Blaine whispers, a small sob escaping as he lets his shaking fingers graze gently over Kurt's cheek. "You have been- continue to be- incredible. I never dared dream of finding someone as amazing as you. I never thought I would ever be able to be myself in front of anyone other than Santana, but now I find myself not wondering but knowing I have friends. Friends who like me for me. Friends who I can talk with, laugh with and enjoy spending time with without panicking that I might be in the way. And that is simply because you love me," he smiles. "And not only that, but you have managed somehow, to unearth the me that I've never dared show anyone before. You're the one who knows me best, Kurt. The one who knows what's truly on my heart, the one from whom I never have to hide. If you want this, really want this...then let's do it," he says, allowing himself an ear splitting grin. "Let's be husbands."

Kurt hurls himself into Blaine's arms, hugging him so tight he can barely breathe, but he hugs back happily, burying his face into the warm crook of his neck to place a featherlight kiss there before pulling back to shake his head in amazement.

"People will think we're crazy," he says in quiet disbelief, trying to comprehend the magnitude of this insane conversation and completely ignoring the way Kurt nuzzles in under his jaw, letting his eyes fall shut as he noses along and up under Blaine's ear.

"So let them. Who cares?"

"Rachel will scream for at least a month."

"I love you."

"Santana will hurt me," Blaine continues, one hand coming up to rest absent mindedly across Kurt's back and subtly draw him closer to his side.

Wrapping his arms tighter around Blaine's neck, Kurt traces his tongue lightly around the shell of his ear, sighing contentedly. "I want us to live together."

"My parents will probably disinherit me."

"I want to be the best husband to you."

"Your dad will hunt me down."

"And only you."

"Cooper will flip his shit."

"Forever."

"So that's how I do it."

"Huh?" Kurt stops abruptly, pulling back to look at Blaine with wide eyes.

"That's how I get to hear what's really on your heart," he clarifies. "By pretending I'm not listening."

"Uh..." Kurt laughs, shy and embarrassed. "Yeah. I kinda thought you'd tuned out."

"I always listen to you, Kurt. Did you mean it? All of it?"

"Yes." His response is firm and sure and Blaine's heart soars as he takes Kurt's hand tightly.

"You want to live together?"

"I do."

"You want this to be a proper marriage?"

"Yes."

"And you don't want anyone else?"

"Not ever."

Blaine seizes him fiercely, crashing their lips together happily before they both relax into the kiss and Kurt lets his fingers tangle into Blaine's messy bed hair, groaning in pleasure when Blaine breaks the kiss to trail his lips down his neck. "Stay there," he beams, before sprinting back down the street.

"What? Where are you...?"

"Right there!" Blaine calls back, turning to give him thumbs up before tripping over a pile of snow, picking himself up and jumping the hedge.

"Brian, dear? Is that Blaine jumping the hedge again?"

"Yes," Brian says in astonishment as Blaine bursts through the front door, clatters up the stairs then back down again without a word, slamming the door behind him.

"Did he remove his snow boots before going upstairs?"

"I'm sure he did," Brian says, with a placating smile as Blaine tears past the window.

"Here," he says, skidding to a halt and dragging Kurt around the other side of the car. "Um..." Suddenly shy once more, he leans in and kisses Kurt's cheek sweetly before falling to one knee, right there in the deep snow. "I love you," he says, taking Kurt's left hand as his other one flutters up to cover his mouth. "And- and this isn't perfect, and I guess I kinda know the answer already but... Kurt Hummel, will you be my husband? I promise, faithfully and completely non-drunkenly, to love, honor and respect you for as long as we both live. I promise to always care for you, to make you feel safe and to always let you know how completely beautiful and utterly perfect you are, if you just promise to always be mine."

"Can't I promise all that too?" Kurt chokes out, tearfully elated as he falls down opposite him. "Cause I want to take care of you, to make you feel safe and loved...and I will never tire of reminding you how awesomely wonderful you are."

"You can," Blaine says with a hiccuping laugh. "But I have a ring."

"You what?"

"It's maybe not the best," he says, scrunching his nose as he fumbles in the pocket of his sweats for the box. "And I will get you a better one, I swear, when I earn more money. But it was important I paid for it myself, out of my own money, not my allowance from my parents." He lifts the lid to reveal a simple platinum band, with a square set diamond in the middle. "It's also an engagement ring instead of a wedding ring but... Well... I bought it ages ago, not really sure how all this was going to play out."

"How long is ages ago?" Kurt asks, squeezing Blaine's hand tight to keep from taking the ring to try it on.

"I put a down payment on it the day after I first stayed at yours for that weekend."

"So you..."

"Loved you then," he confirms. "I've loved you since the second you screamed Vegas boy in my face," he says, beaming bright when Kurt makes his squeaky laugh. "So...Kurt, what do you say? Wanna be my husband?"

"Yes," he cries, knocking him backward onto the soft snow as he showers his face with kisses. "Yes!... And we're totally buying matching wedding rings as each other's Christmas gifts," he grins against Blaine's lips before kissing him full on the mouth.

Blaine stays on his back in all the snow, paying the cold no heed as he fumbles to slide the ring onto Kurt's finger. They gaze down at it together before Kurt looks back at Blaine adoringly and brushes a curl from his forehead. "I love you, he whispers softly. "I love you so much."

Blaine blinks hard, nodding when no words will come, only tears of joy, which Kurt kisses away before tugging him to his feet. "It feels weird, driving away now," he admits reluctantly. "But I'm wet and cold so..."

"Don't go," Blaine says, bending to kiss Kurt's hands. "Please. Stay. Come inside. I want my parents to meet my husband."


	14. Chapter 14

Kurt looks like a startled rabbit but lets Blaine tug him toward the house. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he nods his certainty. "And anyway, you're all wet. I've got clothes you can wear." He laughs when he notices Kurt eyeing his legs warily. "I might have been wearing your yoga pants when I flew out," he admits with a blush.

"Oh might you?"

"Yeah, but they were washed yesterday, so they're clean," he adds quickly.

"Blaine?"

Kurt's gentle tug on his arm has him stopping at the bottom of the driveway. "Yeah?"

"Um... Don't tell them yet," he says, eyes flicking toward the house.

"What?"

"Just...let me meet them first. We've been through enough these past few days. There's no rush to go in there and bring everything crashing down."

"But I..."

"I know," Kurt says kindly, grazing their fingers together briefly. "I know you've been building to this, and because I know you, I know you will have planned what to say but... Just let it be, for now. We'll know when the time is right."

Blaine looks up, his voice firm. "I'm not ashamed of you."

"I know that," Kurt nods. "Despite what happened yesterday morning, I know you're proud to be with me."

"Prouder still to call you my husband."

"And that's wonderful. But right now, just an introduction as your friend will suffice. You and I both know the truth and really, that's all that matters. Here," he says quietly, slipping the ring from his finger and pressing it into Blaine's palm. "You can give it back to me later."

They enter the house and Blaine leans in, dropping a featherlight kiss to Kurt's cheek as they kick off their shoes. "I love you," he whispers, before leading him into the living room where his mom and dad sit quietly, waiting for their son's return.

"Ah, you're back," Brian says, perhaps a little too brightly as his eyes flick to Kurt hovering nervously at his son's shoulder.

"Yeah. Uh... Mom, dad, this is Kurt. Kurt, meet Brian and Mary, my parents."

Kurt offers a timid wave, which makes Blaine want to smile and kiss his neck, but he settles for plunging his hands in the pockets of his sweats. "Hi. Nice to meet you...properly," Kurt says.

"You too, dear," Mary smiles. "You ran away yesterday."

"Yes, thank you," Blaine cuts her off. "We got wet in the snow so I'm loaning Kurt some clothes. We're going upstairs to change."

"I'll make you both some coffee," Brian says as he stands and walks toward the kitchen. "Kurt, have you eaten any breakfast?"

"Uh...no, I haven't."

"Would you like something? Cereal? Toast?"

"Oh, um...toast. Yeah. Some toast would be great, thank you," he says politely while Blaine stares at his dad.

"Okay. You boys go ahead, I'll bring it up when it's done."

Baffled, Blaine still stares at the now empty space where his dad was standing, before shaking his head in confusion and leading Kurt up the stairs to his room. "He's all weird. My dad is never that nice," he whispers. "Something's up."

"I don't think so," Kurt says, following him into his room. "I think he was just trying to make me feel welcome."

"No. He has a hidden agenda, I'm sure of it," Blaine mutters.

"I really don't think that's the case, but anyway," Kurt says brightly. "This is your room? From when you were a kid?"

"Kinda," he shrugs. "But I boarded, remember, so it's not really my room, more a place I stayed in when I had to come home for the holidays."

"Still...it's nice."

"Thanks." He busies himself with rummaging around to find Kurt's yoga pants and his warmest hoodie, handing them to him with what he hopes is a seductive smile. "Shower?"

"Ha! Not with you," Kurt laughs. "Not now, anyway."

Blaine pouts but then brightens, backing Kurt against the wall and bringing one hand up to wrap around his waist. "Kiss me then," he breathes, his lips inches from Kurt's. "Please. I really want to be with you."

"Your dad will be up in a minute," Kurt warns, though in reality he'd quite like to be engaging in a hot make out session.

"So?" Blaine murmurs as he begins trailing his lips along Kurt's jaw. "I don't care."

"You do," Kurt says, pushing gently until Blaine gives in and steps back. "You wouldn't want him to find out like that. And anyway," he says, walking his fingers up Blaine's chest. "We have the rest of our lives."

Blaine attempts to pout again but ends up grinning. "I know. Gosh, that sounds good."

"It does." Kurt grins back, pressing their foreheads together before giving in and kissing him as chastely as he can muster.

"Food!"

They pull apart at the sound of Brian outside the door. "I can't knock," he calls, "I'm carrying a tray. And Blaine, your door is supposed to be open."

"We're getting changed," he snaps as his dad comes into the room.

"You're not. You're still dressed exactly as you were."

Blaine glares but says nothing, taking the tray and setting it down on his desk.

"So...what are your plans for the day?" Brian asks, a little awkward and uncomfortable but trying nonetheless.

"Spending it with Kurt," Blaine barks. Kurt raises his eyebrows at Blaine's sharp tone and sits quietly on the end of the bed, hands folded in his lap. "Cooper said he would call in after work too."

"Right. Well... I'm going to the church to help with the soup kitchen and food drive this morning, if you boys wanted to join?"

"No we do not."

"What..." Kurt pipes up nervously. "Uh... Can I ask, what is that?"

"Oh." Brian is surprised, and glances at Blaine who huffs and rolls his eyes, but then he turns his attentions back to Kurt. "Well, I don't know if Blaine told you, but I'm a minister."

"Yes, he did."

"Really? He told you? Huh. Right. Well, our church has been collecting donations of blankets and canned food to hand out to the poor in the community, only now, with the weather so cold, the shelters are overrun. So we're also operating a soup kitchen today, and keeping the church open around the clock for people to come in and get warm. They leave with clean clothes and warm blankets," he adds. "Not much, I guess, but it's something, at least. We also give them a pamphlet," he adds, and Kurt notices he looks almost fearfully at Blaine for his reaction. "Though I expect most get thrown away."

"Still, if one person reads it and takes note, that's something, right?" Kurt asks.

"It is," Brian nods, smiling, both of them oblivious to the incredulous look on Blaine's face. "Kurt, can I ask, are you...do you believe...at all?"

"No," he answers honestly. "Not in god, anyhow. But I do believe in tolerance and acceptance, and I think everyone should be entitled to live their lives the way they see fit, as long as it's not harmful to others."

Brian ponders for a second, nodding slowly. "Wise words, young man," he says eventually. "I think I know a lot of people who could use that advice. Myself included, I guess. Anyway." Clapping his hands together, he seems suddenly awkward once more. "I'll leave you to it. Have a nice day."

"We'll come with you," Kurt calls.

Brian and Blaine turn simultaneously. "What?" they both cry. "No," Blaine adds. "No we will not."

"Why not?" Kurt asks. "It's a very noble cause, Blaine, and I'm sure your dad could use the help. We can come back this afternoon to see Cooper before I drive home."

"It's true," Brian says, not wanting to sound too enthusiastic. "I could use the assistance, if you're not too busy."

"Great. When are you leaving?"

"In about a half hour?"

"Okay," Kurt smiles. "We'll eat, get changed and meet you downstairs."

Brian backs slowly out of the room, as if not quite believing what's just happened, but he closes the door behind him, much to a mutinous Blaine's relief. "Seriously Kurt, what the hell?"

Kurt shrugs, walking over to the desk chair to straddle Blaine's lap. "I want to get to know your parents, your dad could use some help and you," he says with a bop to Blaine's nose, "Need to stop behaving like a petulant five year old."

"What? I don't wanna go," he mutters angrily, folding his arms and staring down at his chest. "And you can't make me."

"You had better be joking with this act, Blaine," Kurt says, unsure. "If I have to treat you like a child, then I will," he declares. "You are going, and that's final. You know, Santana warned me about this."

"Great."

"Your dad seems perfectly nice. In fact, it seems to me like he's trying to reach out to you, but you won't let him."

"He's not."

"Do you know he looks genuinely terrified of upsetting you? The entire time we were talking I can see his eyes flicking across to you, sitting here. He's terrified of your reaction, Blaine, and yet he was only saying we could go help if we wanted to. He wasn't demanding our presence."

"No, he was storing everything up so that when your not here he can barrage me with a long list of my shortcomings. Do you know how often he's been in here these last few days? Asking to pray with me? And then, when I refused to tell him what was wrong, he tells me he's disappointed in my attitude."

"To be honest, so am I, right now," Kurt sighs. "It's a canned food drive Blaine, not a lifelong conversion to Christianity."

"But the house will be empty," Blaine implores. "You know what that means."

"Before I left New York, " Kurt starts, letting his fingers run beguilingly into Blaine's hair. "I told you that if we were thinking of having a future together, then we had to start facing reality and not hiding away in a locked room all the time. Now we're not only thinking about it, we're actively doing it, Blaine. I told you, we have the rest of our lives together. I love being with you like that, but this relationship with your parents is important to me, and I think- no, I know- that if you put just a little more effort in, you will get a hell of a lot more out of it. Stop judging them before they've even begun and give them a chance. Find out what they're really like, Blaine, because I've a feeling you've forgotten... And stay at my place tonight so we can have loads of sex."

Blaine laughs, eyes crinkling as he looks up and lets Kurt's lips find his own. "Okay," he breathes happily. "It's a deal."

"If you ever tell anyone I assisted in a soup kitchen wearing yoga pants and a hoodie, I will deny all knowledge," Kurt tells Blaine as they haul boxes of food from the trunk of Brian's car.

Blaine wedges his foot in the door to the church, waiting for Kurt to pass. "I offered to lend you some pants."

"Yeah," Kurt laughs. "But you buy pants which are ankle length on you- meaning knee length on me."

"Ooh. Ouch!" Blaine laughs, nudging Kurt affectionately. They deposit the boxes in the kitchen then leave to collect more, and Blaine blushes pink as he hears Mrs. Cartwright asking his mom if that's really Blaine? And hasn't he grown?

"Anyway," Blaine says, hurrying to catch Kurt up and lowering his voice to a whisper. "I still think you look beautiful."

Kurt's face glows with pleasure, and he ducks his head, biting his lip to keep from kissing Blaine there and then. "And I'm happy to see you in a bow tie again," he says quietly. "It's a part of you, and I feel all at sea when you're not wearing one."

"How are we doing, boys?" Brian asks as he arrives at the car. "Are these the last boxes?"

"Yep," Kurt smiles. "I was thinking I'd go help Mary with the soup, if that's okay? Maybe Blaine could go with you to hand out the blankets."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Brian agrees, slinging an arm about Blaine's shoulder which has them both staring at it before he awkwardly removes it. "Uh..."

"Have fun," Kurt says, laughing when Blaine sticks his tongue out at him behind Brian's back.

To Blaine's surprise, it's relatively easy to keep up light conversation with his dad in between welcoming people into the church and handing out packs of blankets and donated clothes. His dad's church is located in a smart area of town, meaning a lot of the recipients are bussed in from further out, and Blaine finds himself remembered and welcomed warmly by every volunteer driver as they pull up, and the soup kitchen ladies fuss and coo over him when he goes in to help serve, and tell him at every available opportunity that they miss seeing him at church. Kurt is in his element, taking great delight in teasing Blaine when a particularly effusive woman reminds him repeatedly that Jessalyn, her daughter, lives in New York and is single. Did she mention she's single? She's single.

He blushes red and returns to his dad's side, and finds himself actually wanting to share the story with him, feeling unexpected warmth at hearing him laugh. "Yes," he smiles. "Mrs. Myer is often asking after you," Brian confirms. "But I don't think Jessalyn would be your type." Looking over his shoulder briefly, he leans back in conspiratorially. "She has terrible teeth."

"Dad!" Blaine laughs. "You can't say things like that!"

"I just did."

They return home in the afternoon, and Cooper arrives as promised, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline when he sees Kurt sitting at the kitchen table, but frantic hand signals from Blaine tell him they will talk later.

"Wanna build a snowman?" Cooper asks with a pointed glance at his brother.

"What are you, in a film?"

"Funny. C'mon. Both of you. Outside."

"I thought you said our snow wasn't good enough," Mary says in confusion.

"It looks perfect today," Cooper says with a knowing smile. "Everything looks perfect."

"So..." he says, stepping out onto the back porch.

"Yes."

"Yes what?" he asks in confusion, trailing Blaine into the yard as Kurt follows. "Not yes you've told them, because they're clearly still breathing, and not yes you've done the papers either, because Jim called and asked if you still wanted to go ahead with it."

"Yes, Kurt and I are together."

Cooper swallows and nods as he starts to pile snow into a mound. "Good. Yeah."

"Do you mean that?" Blaine asks.

"I do." He stops moving snow and straightens up, looking between them both. "I won't pretend it doesn't seem weird, looking at you two and knowing you're lovers not friends but... But you both look stupidly happy, and I can't really argue with that, I suppose."

"Good, because we're not just lovers," Blaine says, sharing a shy smile with Kurt. "We're husbands."

"I know, and we have to get that sorted."

"No, we don't," Blaine says calmly. "We're going to stay married. Make a real go of it."

"Oh fuck."

"No need to..." Blaine starts, but Cooper cuts him off.

"Yes there is. I knew this would happen. I knew. Oh shit. Mom and dad will blame me for this."

"No they won't," Kurt chips in. "Because they're not going to know that an annulment was ever on the cards."

Blaine stops and stares. "Huh?"

"When you tell them, I don't want any of this to be mentioned. That you didn't tell me we were married, all of that. There's no need. It's enough to tell them you're gay, then who you're with and then that we're married. Why add all that in when all it does is paint you in a bad light? I don't want them to see you like that, as someone who isn't truthful, because you are, and you just made a mistake, that's all. So I don't want any of that mentioned. If they ask what's been happening we can just say we had a fight but have now made up."

"But you..."

"Can do what I want because I'm totally awesome? Yeah, I know," Kurt smirks. "Now be quiet, husband, and let's get this snowman done."

"You're married. You got married on a drunken night out and now you're deciding to stay married," Cooper mutters, to himself more than anything. "This is for life, you two do realize that, right?"

Kurt stops, a pile of snow on his shovel. "So are dolphin tattoos."

"Oh!" Cooper's eyes go wide as he points at his brother, then at Kurt, then back to Blaine. "Oh! You did not!"

"I kinda did tell him...a little bit," Blaine admits sheepishly. "But I didn't tell mom and dad."

"Can I see?" Kurt asks, and Cooper stares at him before nodding reluctantly.

"Round the side of the house though, so mom and dad don't see."

Blaine knows from the wild cackling the second that Kurt sees the tattoo, and he ducks behind the half completed snowman to wait for them to come into sight, pelting them with snowballs as they both cry out.

Inside, the noise draws Mary and Brian to the window, who watch as a wild snowball fight ensues between the three of them, with Cooper seeming to take the most hits until he tackles Kurt around the waist and pins him to the floor, only for Blaine to shove snow down his coat, making him scream and climb off Kurt to chase him across the yard.

"They're nineteen and thirty years old," Mary says in disbelief.

"I know. But Blaine looks so happy."

"He does," she agrees. "Which is nice. I haven't seen him this way in...well, I can't remember, actually," she realizes sadly. "I feel like he's such a complicated character. I don't know where it all went wrong. He seems to find it so hard to let go and just be himself."

"He gets it from you," Brian says quietly, with a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't disagree.

"I'm always worried I'll get hurt, if I delve too deep, get too involved. If I can't control things then I panic. I fear the unknown."

"Have I ever hurt you?"

"No," she says, smiling up at him. "Thirty five years of marriage and no, you've never hurt me. Because you have the key to my heart and soul. I think that's what Blaine needs to find. Someone who loves him wholeheartedly for who he is, and then he'll maybe find it easier once again."

"I like Kurt," Brian says, changing the subject.

"He seems nice. And I'm glad he has a friend other than Santana. I mean, she's a nice girl, but Blaine needs male friends too."

They watch together in silence as Cooper throws a barrage of snowballs at Kurt, who takes Blaine's hand and runs to the far end of the large yard and ducks out of sight behind a tree. "Ah," Mary sighs. "Boys will be boys."

Kurt pants hard, face glowing with the exhilaration of his first snowball fight for years. Pinning Blaine against the tree, he leans close, breath puffing out in front of him. "You are so beautiful," he whispers, grazing their lips together then pulling back for a split second before going back in for more.

"Saw that."

They leap apart quickly as if burned, and Kurt blushes fiercely when he finds Cooper leaning against the tree, watching them. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Cooper says, face breaking out into a huge grin as he smooshes snow in both their faces. "Really, don't be." He runs away laughing, and Blaine and Kurt catch up with him on the porch steps, shaking snow from their hair.

"You will pay," Blaine warns, "but right now I can't feel my toes, so let's go inside."

They drink hot chocolate in the den, and Kurt enjoys hearing tales of a childhood Blaine from Cooper, what he can remember anyhow, and he looks sad as he struggles to admit to not having been around much.

"You're eleven years older," Blaine says kindly. "You had a life of your own before I was even out of diapers. Don't feel bad. Seriously Cooper, these last few days have made up for any shortcomings."

From the other end of the couch, Kurt snorts. Hiding his mouth behind his hand, he avoids eye contact and suddenly studies the picture on the wall of the last supper in depth.

"Hummel?" Blaine's voice is low, but Kurt can tell without turning around that he's suppressing his own smile.

"Hmm?"

"Are you laughing because I used the word shortcomings, when I am myself, slightly vertically challenged?"

"So..." Kurt sing songs, still staring at the picture. "Which one is Jesus?"

"You should be nice to me," Blaine tells him, stretching his leg out to dig his toe into Kurt's thigh. "It's your birthday in a week."

Kurt turns back as Cooper watches them affectionately and he slides closer to Blaine on the couch, who smiles and takes his hand. "It's my birthday in ten days," he corrects. "And if you're lucky, I'll let you be nice to me on my birthday. For an entire day."

"Oh really?" Blaine asks flirtatiously. "What have you got planned?"

"Hmm, breakfast in bed? Dinner in a fancy restaurant? Showering me with gifts? Just me, me, me," Kurt laughs.

"I'll allow it," Blaine concedes.

Brian bustles in, looking awkward and uncomfortable. "Uh... Cooper? Are you staying for dinner?"

"No thanks dad," Cooper says, looking at his watch and standing. "I'd better get back- got a ton of case notes to write up. Talk tomorrow, Blaine. Bye, Kurt."

"Bye," he calls. "Thanks for throwing snow at me all afternoon!"

"Welcome!"

"So...uh...Kurt," Brian says once the front door is shut. "Would you maybe like to have dinner with us? You don't have to, of course. You might have plans with your own parents but..."

"Uh, no...no I don't," he says, and a quick glance to Blaine gives him a nod of confirmation. "Thank you, yes, I'd like to have dinner."

"Okay...well...I'll just..."

"Dad?"

Brian stops, almost relieved. "Yes Blaine?"

"Um...Could I possibly sleepover at Kurt's tonight?" he asks, his voice high and wavering.

His dad opens his mouth as if to question it, but nods curtly instead. "Yes. Yes you can. Thank you for asking permission," he says briskly, and is gone.

Blaine stands, stretching high above his head and releasing a deep breath. "This is it, isn't it?"

Kurt goes to him, cupping his cheek and smiling softly when Blaine leans into the touch. "Only if you want it to be."

Bringing his hand up to grip Kurt's tightly, Blaine looks him in the eye. "Then it is."

"Why did you say Kurt could stay, Brian?" Mary hisses vehemently when he walks wearily into the kitchen. "We're only having leftover pot roast! I dont even know if there's enough to go around. You'll have to have a smaller portion and...ugh!" she cries, throwing her hands up in despair. "Why?"

"Because I think Blaine is about to tell us he's in love with him," Brian says in a voice that sounds so calm he's pretty sure it doesn't belong to him.

Mary stops dead, hands in the oven mitt as she stares at her husband, and stares some more. "Excuse me?"

"I think Blaine and Kurt are in love with each other."

"Brian..." Mary starts slowly. "I think you must be misled. Maybe you've been watching too much netflix."

"Oh come on, Mary," he sighs, moving closer to lower his voice in case he's overheard. "Think about it. Yesterday, when Kurt turned up here? Blaine said he was someone from New York. A friend, he later clarified. Tell me, what kind of friendship has you running down the snow covered street in your socks, chasing their car and yelling for them to please come back, then falling down sobbing when the car turns out of sight? What kind of friendship has him locked in his room, phone glued to his ear, only to emerge the next morning, eyes red from crying to announce he's going out? And then, when he returned with Kurt in tow? You saw him, Mary. You saw how happy he was. How happy he's been all day."

"That doesn't mean there's something going on, something...like...that," she says, two high spots of indignant color appearing on her cheeks as she begins to serve the dinner. "Our son isn't... We can't have a son who's..."

"Gay?" Brian whispers as he hears footsteps in the hallway. "I'm pretty sure we have, my dear. And I'm also quite certain that if you're honest with yourself, you'll realize you've known all along, too."

*  
Kurt raises an eyebrow but bows his head while grace is said, and politely thanks Mary for inviting him to dinner, who smiles weakly and tries hard to swallow her food. The atmosphere is tense, so much unsaid as Blaine pushes his food around aimlessly and Brian stares at his plate until Blaine sets his knife and fork down with a clatter and looks up.

"I uh...I have something to tell you."

"Oh no, Blaine, not now," his mom says with a polite smile in Kurt's direction. "Not at the dinner table. We have guests."

"Um...no," he says boldly, ignoring the shocked look on his moms face. "I have something that needs to be said. And I'd ask you to listen, please. And uh...hear...hear me out. All the way to the end."

Blaine keeps his eyes locked on Kurt's as he speaks, his voice high and thin with worry, but he is reassured and urged on by those blue eyes, calm, steady and silently cheering for him. His dad clears his throat, pushing his untouched dinner to one side. "Go on," he says with a nod. "We're listening."

"Okay. Well..." He pauses, sucking in a deep breath as he realizes this is it. No going back. His confession now will ultimately change the shape of his family dynamic forever. "Kurt and I," he mumbles, looking down at his hands before he stops himself.

No.

Proud.

He's proud. Proud to be Kurt's. Proud to love him. Proud to be his husband. Proud that Kurt loves him back. He looks up, and smiles a smile so heartbreakingly, genuinely happy that Kurt beams right back through tear filled eyes as he understands Blaine's thoughts exactly. No more hiding.

"Kurt and I are in love," Blaine says clearly and concisely.

"Oh dear Lord and Father, help us," Mary mumbles, her eyes cast heavenward, but Brian is quick to shush her.

"Carry on, Blaine."

"Kurt and I are in love," he repeats. "We have been for a while. We uh...well, we officially started dating back at the end of May," he says with a shy smile across the table. "But we actually met in April- in Vegas."

Mary doesn't even try to hide her whimper, but Blaine is on a roll now and continues strongly. "I'm gay," he says- continuing to speak directly to Kurt as he finds it the easiest way to speak his mind. "I don't know if you know that about me, if you had any idea at all, but I am. I've known for years. People around me, well...Santana...has known since I was fifteen, and in New York I've never hidden it. All the friends I've made, they know I'm gay. And Um...obviously Kurt does. I know this doesn't fit with your plans. I know I'm a bigger disappointment to you now than I ever was but...but know this. I am Kurt's one and only," he says proudly. "As he is mine. I might not have followed your religious beliefs, but you did teach me to respect others, and to respect myself. And I thank you for that, really."

"Blaine, you can't..."

"There's more, mom," Blaine says firmly, staring right ahead at Kurt who smiles encouragingly. "The thing is...I hope you know that I'm not a rebel. I don't seek to cause trouble, or make any kind of disturbance at all, really," he adds with a small laugh. "But in Vegas I did something. Something which could probably be perceived as rather stupid."

"I sincerely hope you didn't get a tattoo," his mother whispers, horrified.

"I got married." Blaine says, unable to keep from grinning. "To Kurt."

"You what?!" Mary shrieks as Brian turns white.

"Please hear me out. It was dumb, I know. I wish I could tell you what either one of us was thinking, but I can't, because we neither of us can remember a thing. What I do know, however, is that we were lucky enough to fall in love, and that Kurt makes me happier than I can ever remember being. I feel so lucky to have made what some would think to be a stupid mistake but which has actually turned out to be the best thing I've ever done. We would have married anyway," he says as Kurt nods emphatically. "It's perhaps not as we planned, but we will make a damn good go of this. We will make it work, because we love each other enough to want it to. So that's it," he says, reaching for Kurt's hands. "That's me. Us. That's us. In love. Married. Together."

There is a long silence, during which Kurt and Blaine continue to gaze at one another, Brian studies his son and Mary studies her husband. Eventually, Brian clears his throat and leans back in his chair. "Can I ask, Blaine, what you expect from us in all of this?"

"Nothing," Blaine shrugs. "I've learned not to expect or hope for anything from either of you, because I only end up disappointed."

"So you have no expectations whatsoever?" he asks, throwing his arms wide.

"Well...maybe a few," Blaine concedes. "I'm expecting the whole talk about how I'm going against nature, and god's intentions. I know you'll tell me how abhorrent I am, how disappointed you are in me, and I'm fully expecting you to tell me and Kurt to leave and never return so yes, I guess I do have expectations."

"And what if I tell you I've known for...ooh...three years at least, that you might be gay? What then, huh?" his dad snaps as a sea of astounded faces stare back at him. "Because I have, you see," he nods to himself. "Yes. I guessed when you asked to board at Dalton. Not because I felt you were up to anything, but because I just had this feeling...a parents intuition, maybe. And my biggest fear was having to have this conversation," he admits. "Having to sit and listen to you tell me that you like men the way you should like women. And then I realized something, as time went on. I realized that whatever I might think about the rights or wrongs of the bible, or homosexuality, I didn't want to shy away from this discussion. Far from it. I wanted to have it. I wanted to hear you say it. Because however hard it might be for your mom and I to hear; to you, it means you're being yourself. You're staking a claim over your life and declaring that this is who you are. And not only that, you're also telling us that you've found happiness... And that's all I've ever wanted for you."

Taking a sip of water, he clears his throat and continues. "Blaine, over the years I've watched as you've withdrawn more and more into yourself. I know I've been harsh, I know I've not been entirely fair and I know I've focused much more on your failures when I should be focusing on your achievements and successes- of which there's been many. But I also feel that at times you have judged us, tarnished us with a brush which has been unfair, uncalled for and hurtful. You've pulled away from us both physically and emotionally and I have to say that's hurt me more than any confession of sexual orientation ever could. You know my thoughts on homosexuality, and I can't pretend to think otherwise or to be suddenly okay with all this. But my God teaches me about love, Blaine. He teaches me that a father should love his son, care for him, protect and provide for him and whatever you may think of me," he says as his voice begins to crack. "Whatever you think of me, I have loved you, always. And I always will, no matter who you choose to love."

A resounding silence ensues. Kurt lets go of Blaine's hand but takes to rubbing his foot reassuringly up the inside of his leg, letting him know silently 'I'm here.' Brian swallows hard and blinks, staring at Blaine who folds his arms across his body, hugging himself tight as he cries and Mary reaches across with a tentative hand to pat his shoulder.

"My darling boy," she says softly. "Oh, my boy."

Blaine shakes his head, hugging himself tighter.

"Why do you look so small?" Brian asks suddenly.

"Because I didn't grow much!" Blaine snaps, looking up with tears rolling down his face. "Another disappointment."

"I didn't mean that, you fool," Brian tells him, smiling in spite of his emotional state. "I mean why are you hunched in on yourself? Like you're ashamed? You've just found the courage to sit there and tell us that you're gay, in love and...it would appear...married. Be proud, Blaine. Be proud of who you are."

"I can't though," he cries desperately. "I can't because you're always saying how much I disappoint you, how I've let you down and I know this is the worst of all!"

"No." Brian's voice is sharp. "This is not the worst of all. The worst of all is me, sitting here, watching you crying and feeling too scared to hug you for fear of your inevitable rebuff. This is what's been wrong, isn't it? All these years, when you've been pulling away from us... It's because you thought we wouldn't love you if you were yourself, am I right?"

"Yes," Blaine says quietly. "Because you think it's wrong."

"I think disowning your child because of how they choose to live their life is wrong," Brian corrects. "I'm so sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry if the way I am led you to believe that would be my reaction. I don't think it's for me to decide what is wrong and what is right, but it is for me to tell you that we do love you, and you will always be welcome here. You too, Kurt."

Kurt nods, swiping at tears. "Thank you."

"As for the marriage thing...well. You don't need me to tell you how stupid that was, because you've admitted that yourself. But I'm much...happier...I guess, to hear that you're giving it a go rather than getting a quickie divorce and brushing it all under the carpet. Marriage is a very serious commitment, boys, and it won't always be easy. You will have to work to make it happen, strive to achieve happiness for yourselves. And if I could offer you one piece of advice, it would be this: Above all, be kind to one another, always."

"A divorce was never on the cards for us," Kurt says, smiling softly at Blaine, who rubs his eyes and smiles back. "It's never even been considered."

"Are you sure?" Mary asks, "I thought when you came here first, that maybe you were fighting."

"We were," Kurt admits. "Our first fight. And we didn't know how to handle it, I guess. And it resulted in me flying home and Blaine following. But...we've talked. A lot," he adds, reaching for Blaine's hand again. "And we're gonna be better than ever."

"I'm impressed," Brian admits. "You didn't handle it well at first maybe, but you'll know for next time. And there will be a next time," he says, looking between them both. "I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, but there will be petty fights over whose turn it is to do the dishes, and heated arguments over money which rage long into the night. But if you know how to get past that, if you can work together and keep kindness at the centre of all you do, then I've a feeling you'll be just fine."

He is almost knocked from his chair as Blaine stumbles over to him, blinded by tears of gratitude and relief, but he accepts his son into his arms readily, hugging him tight as he breaks down.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine sobs. "I judged you unfairly and I'm so sorry. Please love me."

"I do," his dad says thickly through tears of his own. "We both do."

Mary joins them, smoothing Blaine's hair and leaning down to kiss at his cheek. "Blaine, we believe what we believe. It doesn't mean we don't think others are entitled to make up their own minds. And for what it's worth, if you had to get married to a man, I think you made a good choice."

Blaine pulls back, looking at Kurt who is sitting on his hands and trying not to look uncomfortable. "I love you," Blaine says quietly, releasing his dad to go kneel at Kurt's side. "I made the best choice in the world, and I will love you forever."

"Maybe you should get drunk more often," Kurt teases, his voice hoarse.

Mary clears her throat. "I don't think that will be necessary," she says primly, making them all laugh.

"You can put your ring back on now," Blaine says, and he rummages in his pocket and produces the band. "There." He smiles happily down at the band.

"Uh...I think your mom and I will..." Brian says, awkward once again at this intimate display of affection.

"Did you know?" Blaine asks, suddenly turning. "Did you know about us?"

"I had my suspicions," Brian admits. "Especially after watching you two together all day. But then I came to ask about dinner and I heard Kurt asking you to make him breakfast in bed on his birthday."

Kurt and Blaine both blush, and Brian gathers the plates. "Don't worry about it," Brian says as stoically as he can muster. "I'm not dumb. I take it Cooper knows everything?"

"Yes," Blaine whispers.

"Okay. Well... No more secrets I guess," he offers with a small smile. "Anyway, it's my turn to do the dishes, if you'll excuse me."

"What will you say?" Blaine asks as he gets to his feet. "If anyone asks what I'm doing now, I mean. At church."

"I'll tell them you're married and living in New York," Brian says and Blaine nods meekly and looks away. "...And I'll tell them I've met your husband, and I approve of your choice," he adds, before spinning on his heel and heading to the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ," Kurt exhales, falling back limply in his chair. "I think all words have left me right now."

Blaine falls to the floor, resting his head weakly in Kurt's lap. "Same. I...I can't really get my head around all that's just happened."

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Kurt laughs, stroking Blaine's hair back from his pale and clammy face.

"They're not ashamed of me," Blaine whispers happily, his fingers digging into Kurt's thigh. "They love me no matter what."

"Well you are pretty loveable, so..."

He leans down, kissing Blaine's lips lightly before he resumes stroking his hair and Blaine stays there, content to be held as he tries to absorb it all, while out in the kitchen, Brian and Mary hug each other tight and cry with happiness for the return of their lost little boy.


	15. Chapter 15

A half hour passes, and Blaine and Kurt are still in the same position but jump apart when Brian comes back in, eyes red from crying. "You should get going," he notes as lightly as he can. "It'll be late when you get to Kurt's parents otherwise, Blaine, and I don't want you to seem impolite."

Blaine smiles to himself at his dad's usual demeanour returning once more. "Yeah. Uh...are you sure it's still okay for me to... Given all you know now?"

"I can't say I'm comfortable with the idea, but I accept that you're going to want to...do...certain things. I'm going to be honest here, Blaine. If you two weren't married there's no way I'd let you share a bed in this house. But you are, and if you stay here together I'm not going to demand separate rooms, or impose a ban on...erm...anything. But I think your mom and I have had to deal with quite a lot tonight, and I'm just not quite there yet, I'm sorry. It's all a bit...much, I guess. But I don't want you to think I'm changing my mind, or I'm turning my back on you," he adds hastily. "All I said still stands, but your mom and I need some time alone to digest everything and I think you and Kurt would be more relaxed staying at his house. I assume your parents know?"

"Yeah, they..uh...yeah," Kurt says, deciding now is not the time to dwell on Burt's current rage toward Blaine.

"Come back Thursday," Brian suggests. "Thanksgiving. That gives you an extra night together."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he nods firmly, "and Kurt, you should come too...maybe...if you don't have other plans."

"Okay, thank you," Kurt smiles. "And um...not just for the thanksgiving invite. Thank you for being so gracious."

"Oh." His comments take Brian by surprise, but he looks pleased as he straightens up proudly. "You're welcome. As you said Kurt, we all need to believe in tolerance and acceptance."

"We do. You know... Blaine and I would welcome you in New York sometime, if you chose to visit?"

"Yeah," Blaine chips in shyly. "We would."

"That would be... Yes. Thank you. Maybe in the New Year," Brian says awkwardly. "Now go. Get your things together and drive safely."

They feel ragged and worn with emotion as they drive away, but elated- until Blaine remembers his last encounter with Burt Hummel and begins to sweat it. Kurt coaxes and reassures, tells Blaine that his dad will come around, he's a big softie at heart and he really likes him, all the stuff Blaine needs to hear, but it falls on deaf ears as he wrings his hands nervously and stares out the window.

"Okay," Kurt pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine. "You ready?"

Blaine looks up to the house and swallows hard. "No."

"Excellent. Let's go."

"I can't do this," Blaine whispers frantically as Kurt lets them into the house, but Kurt says nothing, only offers a smile before tugging him into the living room.

"Oh hell no," Burt says on immediate sighting of Blaine, who is almost cowering behind Kurt's back.

"I think that's supposed to be hello," Kurt quips, tugging Blaine into the middle of the room. "We have something to say."

"No you don't," Burt barks, rising to his feet, but Carole is quick to intervene.

"Sit down, Burt," she says quietly. "Let them speak."

"Blaine and I have worked it all out," Kurt says proudly as Burt sits mutinous in his chair. "We decided against an annulment or divorce... Actually, Blaine was prepared to go through with it but I begged him not to. Dad, whether you like it or not, Blaine is now my husband."

"Like hell he is. No way."

"He is," Kurt tells him firmly. "I've made my choice, and my choice is him."

"I'm not going to let you do this, Kurt. He was dishonest and he hurt you..."

"And he's sorry!" Carole cries over the top of him. "Look at him, Burt. Look." She turns her attentions to Blaine, standing meekly with his head bowed and her whole face softens with affection. "I told you the day they left the cabin that they would end up married. It might not be as you hoped, or even as they imagined, but I see no point in dissolving this marriage only for them to go through another one two years later. Not to mention that they're both adults. If Kurt chooses to forgive Blaine then that's his decision. You don't have to agree with it, but this marriage is going to happen with or without your support."

Burt huffs loudly, and rolls his eyes before his gaze comes to rest on Blaine who has been tugged over by Kurt to sit on the couch. "Well? What have you got to say about all this?"

"Carole is right," Blaine says softly. "I am sorry. Not just because of what I did to Kurt, but because I hurt and disappointed both of you too. I uh... I was petrified when Kurt asked me to visit with him, but you both made me feel so welcome and then I let you down. I can only say I'm sorry, I guess, and that I promise not to hurt Kurt like that ever again. He means everything to me," he says, gazing at his pink cheeked husband adoringly. "And he's made me the happiest man alive today."

"And you two think you can do this, do you? You think you can make a marriage work? Cause I gotta say, kids, there's a lot of baggage here," he says, gesturing between them. "I don't think it's as simple as forgiveness from Kurt and move on. There's your family for a start..."

"Blaine came out today," Kurt says proudly, putting an arm about his shoulders and squeezing tight. "And I couldn't be more proud of the way he handled it. He was so dignified and calm, and he did it for me, dad. Because he wants to be with me and be open and honest about who he is."

"Actually, I didn't just do it for you," Blaine says softly, eyes widening when he realizes how it sounds. "I mean...oh crap...that came out wrong. I'm... I'm struggling, a lot," he admits to Burt. "I've battled with myself and my inner turmoil for a number of years. Mainly because of the fear of my parents finding out that I was gay. When I moved to New York it was better, much better, and then I met Kurt and it was like it had lifted entirely. But of course, carrying the secret of our marriage around began to take its toll, and when we visited here it became even worse...because you liked me and I wanted to be a part of this family so bad... And I realized how widely the effect of this secret would go. I told Kurt, on our second date, that when I met the one, I would take him home and introduce him. I knew... Or hoped...that would be him. And I knew I couldn't take him home without having told him we were married. So when I did, and when Kurt reacted as he did, I still planned to tell them. Because whatever happened here," he says, turning back to Kurt once more, "I had to be myself. You taught me that, and I knew that however we parted I had to stop being reliant on others for my happiness and start living my life the way I wanted... I just hoped against hope that it would be with you by my side."

"And this is why I love you," Kurt whispers, bringing his hand up to caress Blaine's cheek softly. "This is why I want to be with you." He kisses him gently, his lips lingering for slightly longer than Burt would have liked, but he has to marvel at how deep their love and affection for one another seems to run, and he clears his throat loudly to break them apart.

"I have to say, Blaine, I'm mad but proud of you."

"Um...thank you?"

"What?" Burt says to Carole, who rolls her eyes fondly. "I am. Your reasons for coming out were right, in my view anyway. You should come out for yourself and yourself only. Kurt is a bonus, I guess. How did it go?"

"Better than I hoped, and I think I've been underestimating my entire family for years," Blaine shrugs. "That's for me to live with, I suppose, and I'm going to go back to my counselor to work everything through. But I feel better. Hopeful for the future."

"Good," Burt nods. "Listen. If I allow this marriage to go ahead..."

"Oh my god!" Kurt shrieks. "If you allow it? What are you talking about? I'm an adult, dad! You can't just..."

"Kurt, honey," Carole says, reaching across with a gentle, restraining hand to his arm, and he settles back on the couch with a glare. "Let him have his moment. He likes to think he's papa bear. Just go with it."

"I do not."

"You do," she says sweetly. "Now, go ahead and say what you were going to say, and we'll all pretend to nod in agreement."

"I..." he starts, then realizes what Carole has said and shoots her a look. "I want a promise from both of you. Two promises actually. No more secrets, and no babies for at least five years."

"Daaaaaad," Kurt wails as Blaine stares down at his hands folded in his lap, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. "We've discussed the whole honesty thing, but can you not? With the babies? We haven't talked about that at all, and I'm not even sure myself what I want so please, I'm begging you, shut up."

"But I..."

"Be quiet now, Burt," Carole says sweetly. She moves to kneel on the floor next to Blaine, and takes his hand. "Blaine, you are a very warm and welcome addition to this family," she smiles. "We all love having you here... You're like chicken soup for the soul."

He smiles in surprise, and his grin spreads wider still when Kurt nudges him. "I love chicken soup," he says shyly, and Blaine blinks owlishly as he wills his eyes not to fill with tears.

"So do I," Burt booms, folding his arms across his chest. "Can't be bettered."

"It's a metaphor, dad." Kurt says with an eye roll, but Burt looks him square in the eye.

"I know."

"Thank you," Blaine says softly, as he blinks again and a lone tear escapes.

"You two look tired," Carole says suddenly. "Why don't you go to bed? Burt and I are going to watch a movie together."

"We are?"

"Yes," she declares, settling herself into the armchair with him and tugging his arm about her shoulders. "It's been too long since we cuddled up together like this."

"Oh." Burt looks flustered but pleased, kissing the top of her head and grabbing the remote. "Okay. What'll we watch?"

"Something long," Carole tells him, with a sly grin in Kurt's direction, who mouths a thank you to her as he takes Blaine's hand.

"Goodnight then," Kurt calls over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, kids!"

"Daaad!"

"Don't care!" And they hurry up the stairs to the sound of Burt's wild laughter.

Kurt closes the door behind them, practically falling into Blaine's embrace and they hug each other tight for the longest time. "What a day," he sighs into the warmth of Blaine's neck.

"It feels like these last three days have gone on for an eternity," Blaine mumbles, letting his hands wander up and under Kurt's shirt to feel the warmth of his soft skin. "Hard to believe we were still in New York on Sunday morning. I am sorry, Kurt," he says, pulling back to look at him. "For what I did, but also for how I told you. I don't think I went about it very well."

"There wouldn't have been a right way," Kurt says kindly, staying happily in the circle of his arms and looking deep into his eyes. "I was thinking about this when I was driving to you this morning. You know, if you'd told me in Vegas, we would have got it annulled right away. And I know I said we would have laughed about it while falling in love but really, would we? Or would we both have been mortified and so dragged down with shame that we didn't dare keep in contact? If you'd told me that first night in pyramid, I'd have snapped at you, demanded you send me the papers and again, we wouldn't have seen each other again... And then, when we started dating... How do you tell someone something like that? So please, don't sweat it, because no time was the right time. I just wanna forget about all that now, and celebrate being married instead," he smiles, winding his fingers into Blaine's curls.

"How?"

"I think you know very well how," he whispers, bringing his lips to meet his husbands. He walks them backward until Blaine's knees hit the edge of the bed, and he grips Kurt tightly around the waist, falling back on the bed with him on top of him, groaning and opening his mouth wider as his hands fist Kurt's hair and their kissing intensifies. He breaks away briefly, opening his eyes to gaze up happily, hungry with desire, before pulling him down again, laughing when Kurt yawns into his mouth.

"Oh god," Kurt moans, trying to hide in Blaine's neck. "I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry," Blaine says, still laughing. "You've been awake since four thirty. C'mere." He tugs Kurt up to sit on the bed and undresses him tenderly, hands never wandering, though he is sorely tempted. Grabbing his pajamas from under the pillow, he then redresses Kurt and places a kiss to his cheek when done. "Mickey Mouse has never looked finer," he says, commenting on the choice of night attire. "Now go use the bathroom while I change quickly... If I can borrow some pajamas that is?"

"Of course you can, don't you always?" Kurt smiles, and pads away.

They settle into bed, and Blaine tugs Kurt back against him. "Hey, wait a minute," Kurt says, twisting in his embrace, "I thought we were having sex?"

"Not tonight," Blaine tells him with another loving kiss. "You're too tired."

"But..."

"We have the rest of our lives."

"I know, but I promised you this morning, and I said sex without blushing and everything."

Blaine laughs, turning Kurt over once more and pulling him into his arms. "Not tonight. Tonight you're my little spoon."

Kurt wakes in the late morning, the bedroom flooded with winter sunshine. He watches Blaine sleep for awhile, sprawled on his back, the covers bunched around his waist and at some point in the night he's removed his shirt- and isn't that just a sight to behold? Grinning like a fool, Kurt hurries to the bathroom before heading downstairs in search of food and family. He finds one but not the other, chewing on a bagel as he reads the note from Carole informing him that they've both gone to work but will be back just after six for dinner. Elated, Kurt grabs coffee and more bagels, bounding up the stairs as best he can with a tray in his hands, which he sets on the desk before sneaking under the covers. He drops a kiss to Blaine's ankle, dodging the immediate jerk of his leg and moving up to nuzzle along the waistband of his pajamas, sighing contentedly and resting his head on his stomach for just a moment.

"While you're down there," comes a gravelly voice, and Kurt startles then laughs, looking up to find Blaine watching him, eyes crinkling with a smile. "Hey."

"Hey, you," Kurt says, dropping a kiss to his hip. "And that's just what I was planning, actually."

"Huh? What are you...? Oh my Christ!" he cries as Kurt swiftly lowers his pajama pants and starts mouthing over him, kissing along his cock as it swells. "Kuuuuurt," Blaine hisses, hands fluttering helplessly to Kurt's messy bed hair.

"The house is empty," Kurt says with a wicked grin. "Be as loud as you like."

"How long for?"

"Until six."

"I don't need that long."

"Speak for yourself," Kurt grins, and returns to the task in hand.

"Oh Kurt!" And Blaine is loud, as he unravels quickly, hips bucking wildly as Kurt's mouth and tongue work their magic. "Kurt, Kurt, please, Kurt...oh my god..."

"You okay?"

"Yes," he pants, falling back weakly against the pillow and tugging Kurt up to find his lips. "But I want you inside me again."

Kurt bites his lip to keep from grinning broadly. "You sure?"

"Yes, and I know you want it too. Don't try and play coy."

Kurt snorts against Blaine's chest before kissing over it. "You got me."

"Get up here and kiss me good morning, husband of mine," Blaine laughs, and then Kurt is there, draped over him and suddenly naked.

"Good morning," he breathes. "Husband."

It is with a new found passion and fervour that they kiss, as if suddenly the final barrier has been broken and now nothing stands in their way because for the first time, they're truly together. Kurt devours Blaine, kissing him hard and rough then soft and slow as Blaine rises up to meet him again and again, eventually rolling them over and pinning Kurt to the bed, trailing kisses all over his body, pausing to suck his cock momentarily before returning his lips to his chest and neck as Kurt slowly works him open.

"Fuck!" Blaine pants, fingers digging into Kurt's shoulder. "I wanna..." He trails off, reaching for the lube and letting his hand glide over Kurt before he sinks down over him.

"Ooh," they exclaim together with wide eyes before bursting into laughter.

"Well that's...that's..." Kurt says, voice squeaky with pleasure.

"Yeah," Blaine breathes, grinning broadly before leaning forward to rest his hands on the mattress either side of Kurt's shoulders. "That's..." He trails off when Kurt thrusts upward, eyes almost rolling back with the sensation before he grinds down into his lap, moaning his pleasure as he lifts his head, and with his eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, Kurt thinks he has never looked more beautiful.

They work together, experimenting with pace and technique, though to each, everything is perfect because they're together. But eventually it winds up with Blaine sitting upright, hands resting on Kurt's chest, thumbs rubbing distractedly over his nipples as Kurt strokes him to orgasm. For the first time, they manage it simultaneously, which only makes it all the more intense as they cry out loudly before Blaine falls weakly against Kurt's chest, panting, sticky and sweaty and neither one cares at all.

"I love you," Blaine murmurs, his lips pressed against Kurt's cheek. He brings one hand up to push his damp chestnut hair from his forehead, nuzzling tighter into him. "I love you so much."

"You're my husband," Kurt says, unable to keep the helplessly over excited giggle from his voice. "I still can't believe I get to call you my husband!" And they laugh together, wrapped tightly in an embrace that neither ever wants to break.

"Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Last night...that thing...about the babies. Did you mean it? That you don't know what you want? Or were you just trying to save any awkwardness because we haven't discussed it?"

"Yes and no," Kurt replies calmly. "I didn't want to get into it in front of my dad, no. But...I don't know... I guess I like the idea of kids, but I've never given it much thought because I've never had anyone to think about it with."

"And now?"

"And now I do," Kurt says, smiling into his hair. "Do you want children?"

"Yeah," Blaine grins, hiding his face into Kurt's neck and marvelling at how thrilling and yet easy this conversation is to have. "Yeah, I do. Not yet. I'm talking like...ten years or so, I guess. I want to do well at college, and get a job, and I'd like for us to both be settled in careers, with a house and so on...but...yeah."

"I want three."

"Huh?" Blaine pushes up onto one elbow to look down at him. "You just said you hadn't given it much thought!"

"Who am I kidding? Of course I want babies with you. Who wouldn't? I want three."

Blaine laughs loudly, showering Kurt's face with kisses until he's squirming beneath him. "You're a tease," he grins, stealing another kiss. "So we're having babies, yes?"

"Yes, but not yet. We know we want them, and that's enough for now. We'll revisit this when you turn twenty nine."

"Deal," Blaine laughs. "Now let's eat."

"Oh!" Kurt smacks his forehead as he suddenly remembers. "I got coffee and bagels... But I somehow don't think they'll be very fresh. I'll be back."

When he returns it is to find the covers neatly straightened on the bed, with Blaine sitting up against the headboard in a pair of boxers, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

"What's up?" Kurt clambers onto the bed, handing Blaine a mug and reaching for the plate of bagels which he sets between them. "You look worried."

"Not worried, per se," he muses. "I was just running something over in my head. But then you walked back in and I stopped thinking about that, and started thinking about how much I really want to make love with you again. From behind this time," he says, becoming more animated as he speaks. "Like, me on all fours and you..."

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"We have until six this evening. We can do that- and a whole lot more, I promise, now just tell me the thing."

"Things," he admits sheepishly.

"Oh?"

"I really want to have the same last name as you," he rushes out. "...And I was also kinda wondering about where we're gonna live."

"Um...well..." Kurt chews for a while before taking a giant gulp of coffee. "Yes to the last name thing, though I think we should hyphenate rather than one of us change. It's a marriage. A partnership. A togetherness."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," Blaine smiles. "I mean, I had, just not in relation to last names. I like that idea. Blaine and Kurt Anderson-Hummel," he grins. "Nice."

"I like it too," Kurt agrees, leaning over for a kiss. "We can sort it out when we get back to New York. As for the living together thing... I have thoughts on that, too."

"I love your thoughts," a completely besotted Blaine replies. "You're so smart."

"You don't know what it is yet," Kurt laughs.

"No, but I know it'll be smart."

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want more sex?"

"Yes please."

Kurt laughs, setting the plate and mugs on the nightstand. "Already?"

"It's just... I'm really liking it," Blaine rambles as he watches Kurt undress. "Not that I didn't or don't like everything else, cause I really do. But you...inside me...yeah..."

Kurt looks down at him- attempting to seem haughty and domineering but actually trying to stifle wildly over excited laughter. "On all fours," he says, as coolly as he can muster, and Blaine is happy to oblige.

"Everything hurts," Blaine moans when they pull into his parents driveway the next day.

"I have no sympathy," Kurt smiles. "You keep begging for it? You're gonna keep getting it."

"I love marriage," Blaine grins, grabbing Kurt's face in his hands and kissing him soundly on the mouth. "And I love you. Are you ready for this?"

"Actually, I'm looking forward to it," Kurt tells him as he takes his hand. "Though I don't know where I'm gonna fit a second thanksgiving dinner, but still. I'll give it a go."

Cooper answers the door, giving them both the thumbs up. "They're so happy you're both coming," he whispers.

"Yeah right."

"True," Cooper tells Blaine with a nudge. "C'mon."

They find Mary and Brian in the kitchen, trying to act nonchalant and like nothing is out of the ordinary, but Blaine can tell they're nervous- his dad particularly. "Hello," he says with a sharp nod. "I hope you've had a good few days."

Blaine reddens and stares at the floor, thinking of the last two days which have been spent entirely in bed apart from when Burt and Carole have been home. "Uh...yeah. Good. Thanks."

"I hope you're not too hungry, Kurt," Mary says apologetically. "We always eat thanksgiving dinner late- Brian has commitments at the church first."

"Oh, really, it's not a problem," Kurt says politely. "We got some time with my dad and step-mom this morning so it worked out well."

"Okay, well...go on through," she offers, gesturing toward the dining room. "It's all ready."

Things relax as dinner moves on, and Blaine finds himself actually enjoying being in his parents company. Cooper seems brighter too, as if Blaine's admission of sexuality and marriage has given him the green light to become truly himself, and he has the entire table laughing with impressions of his more demanding patients. To Blaine's astonishment, Kurt manages to eat all his dinner, plus two slices of pumpkin pie, and when Kurt looks up to catch him staring, he grins broadly. "I've worked up an appetite," he explains, and Blaine blushes scarlet and prays that no one else heard.

"Okay. Who's thankful for what?" Cooper calls. "Mom? You start."

"Oh...um...well..." she looks flustered, and stares down into her lap for a moment as if deciding whether or not to say what is really on her heart, but then she looks up again and decides to go for it. "I'm thankful to have Blaine here. Kurt too, of course. But last year, when I had to sit looking at an empty place for the entire meal... Well, it hurt my heart. So I'm thankful to have him back with us."

"Cute," Cooper says, in an effort to lessen the awkwardness. "I'm thankful Blaine and Kurt didn't get tattooed while in Vegas," he says with a poker face as Kurt and Blaine's mouths hang open.

"Goodness!" Mary laughs. "What a funny thing to say, Cooper. They wouldn't be that stupid, I'm sure."

"No mom," Blaine says, shooting his brother a smirk. "Only really dumb people would get tattoos while drunk. Duh."

"I don't think we can quite equate a drunken marriage with a drunken tattoo," Brian says stiffly. "Let's move on. Kurt? Why don't you tell us what you're thankful for?"

"Um...Well, I'm thankful I met Blaine," he says quietly. "Because he's completed me." He blushes, and no one seems to know what to say so he nudges Blaine in the side to continue.

"I'm thankful for all of you," Blaine says, fiddling with his fork. "I'm just sorry I spent so many years misjudging you."

"And I'm thankful for Kurt," Brian finishes up. "Because through him, our son has been returned to us, and he's found happiness. Now. Everyone finished?" he blusters on, standing and gathering the plates in an effort to hide his embarrassment. "Good, good. Mary, could you organize the coffee, please? Blaine, I want to see you in my study."

Blaine stands quickly, immediately on guard. He looks to Kurt as if wishing for his presence, but the invitation was clearly not extended to him as well, and Blaine doesn't want to push his luck so he scurries down the hallway, remembering to knock on the one door that is allowed to remain closed.

"Come in."

Brian sits behind his desk, and Blaine marvels that a man who looks so much like him can look so intimidating, because certainly that's not what he sees when he looks in the mirror. But that's what Brian has always been, to Blaine. Intimidating. He can remember sitting in the front row of church, looking up as his dad looked down from the pulpit and preached his sermon, and the only things Blaine ever took from it was that if you didn't live your life by the rules of Christianity, you would burn in eternal hell. Even when the church had been remodeled, and the pulpit had given way to a sleek, slim lectern, Blaine was still petrified. But nothing was so petrifying as being summoned to the study, alone. Any and every time Blaine had been called into this room it was to be reprimanded, or reminded of what was expected from him. And so now he finds himself wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as he's instructed to sit, and despite their conversation a few days before- which Blaine thought had gone well- he's now utterly convinced he's about to be lectured about the evils of homosexuality.

"The night before I married your mother, your Grandfather asked me into his study," Brian starts, folding his hands on the desk. "Rather like you, I had only ever been in there when something was amiss, and yet I found myself pleasantly surprised when he talked with me about marriage."

"Oh no," Blaine mumbles. "You really don't have..."

"Clearly I've missed the boat," he continues over him. "But I would like to share some scripture with you, if I may?"

"Really?"

"Really." Opening his large- and to Blaine, still intimidating- Bible, he pulls on his reading glasses, clears his throat and begins. "One Corinthians, Thirteen. Love is patient, love is kind, it isn't jealous, it doesn't brag, it isn't arrogant, it isn't rude. It doesn't seek its own advantage. It isn't irritable, it doesn't keep a record of complaints, it isn't happy with injustice, but it is happy with the truth. Love puts up with all things, trusts in all things, hopes for all things, endures all things. Love never fails."

He closes the book, looking at Blaine over the top of his glasses who purses his lips, looking this way and that, and unsure of what to say. "Is that it?"

"Yes. It may not be your book of choice, Blaine, and you don't have to choose to believe in it. But I think that passage offers some pretty good advice. I um...I wrote it out for you," he says, flustered as he hands over a card in a sealed envelope. "Read it, please. Listen to it, and apply it to your marriage. Love that boy, Blaine, because he has trusted you with his heart. Be patient and kind, and learn to forgive one another the little mistakes as well as the bigger ones," he says with a small smile. He is surprised to find Blaine listening intently, leaning forward in his seat slightly. "Hope together, dream together, endure together and remember, above all else- when things are tough and you're fighting all the time, or you're struggling to recall why you ever thought this was worth it- your love may not have been what brought you both to this marriage in the first place, but it is what kept it from falling apart. Love really does never fail," he says, and surprises himself by coming around the desk to stand in front of Blaine, reaching out one hand to rest on his shoulder. "No matter what, you two will never stop loving each other, I'm sure of it."

Blaine nods, overcome with emotion and not trusting himself to speak, so he reaches up and rests his hand over his dad's instead, and looks into eyes which mirror his own, both in color, intensity and tearfulness.

"When my father spoke with me, he also offered me advice concerning...uh...well...other marital things," Brian says, and Blaine has never seen him blush so hard. "I'm assuming..."

"Please, don't." Blaine whispers, utterly mortified. "Please. It's fine. Kurt and I are fine. It's not...we're not...no. Please. Just no."

"No, good, right," Brian nods. "That suits me. I mean if you do ever need any advice...uh...I'm probably not the one to give it to you, actually," he says with an embarrassed laugh.

"Not concerning that, no," Blaine grins shyly. "But actually, I would be happy to come to you for advice about any other aspect of marriage," he admits. "Because I think you and mom have got it pretty much spot on."

"I'm not so sure of that," Brian says, "But thank you. That's good to hear. I know I don't come off as very approachable, but I'm always willing to listen and talk with you. Either of you."

"Dad?" Blaine drops his hand to fiddle with the envelope, looking down as he turns it over in his hands. "I wondered if maybe you'd consider coming to my counselor with me sometime? You and mom, I mean. I just thought it might be easier to say some stuff there, work through how we're all feeling and that."

"I think that's a very good idea, Blaine, yes. Just let me know a date so I can arrange cover at church, and we could fly up for the weekend."

"Okay," Blaine nods. "Thank you. So... Is that all? Cause..." he gestures with his thumb to the door.

"One more thing," Brian says, taking another envelope from his drawer. "Please pass this along to Kurt. I won't give it to him myself, I don't want to embarrass either him or me. It's an emergency use credit card," he says, cutting Blaine off before he can reply. "That does NOT mean I am giving you two permission for another Vegas extravaganza," he says, and he can't help but smile at the look on Blaine's face. "But I want him to be safe, and to know that he can count on us to support him when necessary. Now run along," he says, shooing Blaine towards the door. "Kurt will be waiting."

Blaine stops in the doorway, turning back to hug his dad hard before returning to his husband's side once more.

That night, Kurt and Blaine sleep in Blaine's childhood room, wrapped in one anothers arms and too drained- physically and emotionally- to even think about doing anything else, though neither one would feel comfortable anyway. Both are surprised with warm hugs from Mary and Brian in the morning before Cooper drives them to the airport and makes Kurt promise faithfully that he will drag Blaine back to Ohio for the holidays. It is only once the plane is soaring high that Blaine shyly hands Kurt the credit card, who flushes red and protests, but is secretly thrilled that Brian views him as a part of the family, and he tucks the card away in his wallet. Blaine opens his own envelope, and takes a card from it, with a simple picture of a winter landscape on the front. Inside, printed neatly, is the bible verse his dad quoted, which brings tears to his eyes, but it is what is written underneath which has him longing to hug him tight once again.

_Love never fails, Blaine. Please remember that. You are always in my heart. Dad._


	16. Chapter 16

"You're home, you're home, you're home!" Rachel shrieks as she leaps into Kurt's arms. Santana follows, hugging Blaine tight and pulling back to look at him proudly.

"You did it," she grins. "You got your man back."

"I did," Blaine beams before turning his attentions to Rachel. "And now I want my bed and my job back, too."

"Yes, yes, okay," she says sweetly. "The store is expecting you tomorrow. Santana says the diner is hiring after the holidays, so I'm going to try there."

"Can we talk with you?" Kurt asks, and even though it's not his apartment, he shows the girls to the couch and he and Blaine settle opposite. "So, firstly we wanted to thank you for never giving up on us," he says, looking between them both.

"You can buy us dinner," Santana tells him.

"Deal. And secondly...well...you know Blaine and I are reconciled but...well...we've decided to stay married, too," he says, releasing a nervous breath.

"As in, we're not getting an annulment, or divorce or anything," Blaine adds when they don't respond. "We've decided to keep being married."

"Well we guessed that," Santana says.

"Huh?"

"We kinda guessed that would be the case, which is why we've decided Rach is moving in here- this is clearly the nicer apartment- and you and your enormous bed can move in with Kurt."

"How did you guess we would stay married?" Kurt asks in disbelief.

"Oh come on, Kurt. It was obvious from the start," Rachel says with a dramatic sigh. "Well, not from the very start, because we didn't know, but when we did know, we knew you two would work it all out. What's the point in divorcing if you're only going to end up marrying each other again anyway? So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pack some stuff."

"No, wait," Kurt tells her, gripping Blaine's hand. "With regard to the living arrangements... Blaine and I have talked about this a lot. Marriage is a big thing- and it's even bigger still when you're still getting to know the other party," he admits. "Even though we're certain that's where our intentions lie, we want to take things slowly. And if we're being honest, neither one of us are ready to lose you two yet. Which is why we wondered if you'd consider getting a place with us? The four of us, I mean. Until Blaine is finished college, at least, and then when he's earning and his parents are no longer paying his rent, we would look to getting our own place."

The shriek- which comes from both girls and Blaine and Kurt take as confirmation- is deafening, and they laugh as they are tackled into hugs.

"After the holidays," Kurt is trying to say over the top of their excited chatter. "New Year, new start and all that, yes?"

"Yes!" Santana nods eagerly. "Yes, good. Okay. You two do whatever you gotta do, Rach and I are going back to hers to look at listings."

"Already?" Blaine laughs.

"Yes already! We'll be back later. Order takeout to be delivered at eight, and remember you're paying."

"It's an enormous loft," Blaine grouches, two days later. "You were supposed to find us an apartment, not one giant room."

"I am not living in this," Kurt announces, spinning on his heel to leave, but Rachel grabs ahold of his arm.

"But it's huge," she coaxes. "And I was thinking your dad could build us some partition walls, maybe?"

"Well you can ask him that," Kurt scoffs.

"I already did. He said he'd be happy to."

"Oh."

"C'mon," Santana tries. "It'll be fun. And we're never gonna get anywhere else as big for our money."

"If we divide it up, Kurt and I get the biggest room," Blaine says decisively, holding up a hand to silence their protests. "Since we're both paying rent but will only be having one room it's only fair. And the piano moves in too."

"Oh no," Santana snaps, but Rachel is already clapping her hands excitedly and jumping up and down.

"Yes! Yes to the piano! So we can take it? Please?"

Kurt looks to Blaine and nods. "Yes," Blaine grins. "We can take it."

"Thank you!" she squeals, kissing his cheek. "Now you just need to go downstairs and pay the deposit."

"Excuse me?"

"Santana says you're rich," she says, batting her eyelashes at him. "And y'know, I don't have a job, and Santana hides all her money in her mattress, so..."

"So it's not our job to provide for you," Kurt says, butting in. "The deposit needs to be split four ways."

"But..."

"But nothing," Kurt warns Rachel. "Don't go treating him like he's a pushover, because he's not. Are you Blaine?"

"Erm...no? No," he repeats, firmer this time. "Kurt's right. And I need my money, anyhow. It's Kurt's birthday next week, then Christmas... I have...things...I need to buy."

"So these things," Kurt whispers as they traipse back down the stairs. "Am I allowed to know what they are?"

"Nope," Blaine grins. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Happy Birthday," Blaine whispers into Kurt's ear, who smiles with his eyes closed, head resting on the pillow.

"Thank you. What time is it?"

"Seven. And I have a feeling Rachel is standing outside your door, waiting to come in."

"Yes I am," she booms. "Can I? Are you decent?"

"I've just woken up," Kurt snaps. "Of course we're decent."

The door opens and Rachel strides in. "Well most newlyweds don't wear pajamas to bed," she remarks as she sets a package down on the bed. "You two are so strange."

"We're not strange, it just suits us to wear pajamas," Kurt tells her, not admitting that they've just hurriedly pulled them on.

"Whatever. Happy Birthday," she announces, handing him the gift which he opens immediately, grinning broadly at the framed picture of him and Blaine, which Rachel took one summer Sunday afternoon in Battery Park.

"I love it. We don't have any pictures of us together," he suddenly realizes.

"Well you do now. I have some more on my phone, and I expect Santana does too. I'll print them out for you. Okay, I have to run."

"What? It's seven in the morning. Where are you going?"

"To the diner with Santana. Carlos- her boss- agreed to give me a trial shift. Though I'm not sure how my voice will sound this early in the morning. Anyhow. Enjoy your day."

"Will I see you later?" Kurt asks, but Blaine cuts in.

"I uh...I've made plans," he says with a guilty flush. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Rachel says sweetly. "It's your right to spoil your husband on his birthday. Have fun!"

The door closes and they're alone once more, Kurt turning to Blaine with a shy smile. "Plans?"

"Plans," Blaine nods, settling over him and kissing him deeply. "Plans to spoil you all day long. A lazy morning in bed, then we're meeting Sam and Artie for brunch... Then I have other plans that will remain a surprise."

"The best part of all that was 'lazy morning in bed'," Kurt grins, his fingers sliding into Blaine's messy bed hair.

"And I have presents."

He is pushed unceremoniously from Kurt's chest as he sits. "Presents?"

"Yes," he laughs. "Okay. We'll do presents first then I'll suck you off. Wait. What?" he teases, laughing when Kurt's eyes go wide.

"Fine by me." he says, in a breathy voice which is far more high pitched than usual.

Kurt opens cards from Brian and Mary and also Cooper, surprised and delighted to find Bloomingdales gift cards in each, and then Blaine hands over one large box and a smaller, wrapped package tied with an elegant silver bow. "Open that first," he says, "cause when you see what's in the box you'll forget about everything else." It is a small box frame, with a postcard of the painting they viewed together on their first date. Underneath, in Blaine's flawless cursive script, is the bible verse his dad had quoted to him, along with the date of their marriage. Kurt falls silent, staring down at it and only looking up when a tear splashes onto the glass.

"I know you have the postcard already," Blaine says, chewing his bottom lip. "But that painting is ours," he says quietly. "And I wanted those words to be ours too."

"They can be," Kurt nods, shuffling across the bed until he's sitting between Blaine's legs, leaning his head back to rest on his shoulder so he can lean up and kiss the underside of his jaw. "It's a beautiful poem."

"It's uh...it's not a poem," Blaine explains. "It's a bible passage."

"Oh!"

Kurt is surprised, looking down to read it through again. "Well it's still beautiful," he smiles. "And I agree, we should make it ours."

"And this is your real gift," Blaine says, hefting the box into Kurt's lap. "The one that cost actual money."

"Ahhh!" Kurt squeaks in surprise when he sees the Kurt Geiger label on the lid, and rifling through mounds of tissue he pulls out a pair of tan leather boots, the mid calf lace up ones that he has been salivating over every time they walk past the store. "My boots! Oh my god Blaine, thank you! This...this is too much."

"I'll have them back then," he says, reaching out, but Kurt is quick to smack his hands away.

"Don't you dare. Oh my god!" he shrieks again, pulling them on. "Oh, they're divine."

"I have to admit to having very selfish reasons for buying them," Blaine says, biting his bottom lip in a way which makes Kurt swoon. "I really like you in boots and skinny jeans."

"Oh yeah?" Arching one eyebrow, Kurt stands on the bed and stares down at him. "Really?"

"Really," Blaine nods. "You are incredibly sexy. I don't know if I say that enough, actually, because I love you so deeply that I tend to focus on that instead. But underneath all that there's a lust for you," he says, inching steadily closer until he's kneeling at Kurt's feet, "that makes me want to rip your clothes off the second you've put them on."

"Oh god, Blaine," Kurt whimpers, reaching down to trail a finger along his jaw. "You know what it does to me when you get like this."

"I do," he grins smugly. He lowers Kurt's pajamas quickly, bringing his hands up to cup his ass cheeks as he guides him toward his mouth.

"Oh fuck," Kurt moans, letting himself be guided backward until he's standing on the bed, back against the wall, and still in the boots. "You know how to...oh!...unravel me...every...time," Kurt gasps as Blaine's tongue glides over him.

Blaine's only response is to move lower, working his tongue over his balls, sucking each one gently into his mouth before moving back to his cock again, deep throating him- a technique which he is proud to have perfected and which Kurt is certainly appreciative of if the noises he is making are anything to go by.

"Blaine, baby...oh fuck! Yes!" Kurt yells, fisting Blaine's hair tight as he drives himself in and out of the cavern of his mouth. "Holy shit you do this so well," he groans, making Blaine hum in pleasure as one of his hands leaves Kurt's ass to palm over himself desperately, helplessly turned on by the noises Kurt is making.

"Want me to come in your mouth baby?" And Blaine doesn't know where this side of Kurt has come from, but he embraces it eagerly, nodding as best he can and taking Kurt so deep that his face rests against his pelvis.

"Fuck, yes!" Kurt cries, spilling over and over and so hard that Blaine has to pull back, coughing and swallowing what he can while the rest dribbles down his chin as he reaches into his pants and jerks himself to orgasm.

"Oh my god," he pants, resting his head wearily against Kurt's leg.

"Happy Birthday to me," Kurt says weakly, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thump. "Jesus. I don't think I've ever been more turned on."

"I did notice," Blaine laughs.

"I called you baby," Kurt says, cheeks turning pink as he slides down the wall to join him on the bed. "Twice."

"I noticed that too," Blaine says. "I liked it."

"I like the boots," Kurt says, as they both look down and admire his legs, still with his pajamas bunched around his knees. "Magic boots."

"I like the boots too," Blaine admits. "But actually I just like you. Any which way you choose."

"Kinda exciting, isn't it? When you think about it?"

"What is?" Blaine asks, slightly alarmed. "I don't have a weird fetish for footwear."

"No!" Kurt laughs. "That we get to explore like this, forever. I feel like we've done so much, but when I think about it there's still so much we haven't tried, and that's exciting."

Blaine tackles him backwards, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss. "It's the best thing in the entire world," he says sincerely, then leans in close, his voice going low. "And just so you know... You can call me baby anytime... Except in public," he adds as an afterthought. "Just...keep it between me and you."

They walk to the diner to meet Sam and Artie, bundled up in thick scarves and gloves to keep the cold out, and Kurt links his arm through Blaine's for the journey, snuggling in close to his side.

"So you didn't tell me how your counseling session went yesterday," Kurt says as offhandedly as he can.

"Good, yeah," Blaine nods. "It's not a secret or anything," he adds. "I just didn't tell you because there was Grand Theft Auto to be played, and maybe I needed a bit of time to decompress, I suppose."

"That's okay. I just don't want you to feel like you can't talk about it."

"I'm glad I've gone back," Blaine tells him honestly. "Simon thinks I'm doing well, and he says the best cure for my self-loathing is having someone around who loves me as much as you do," he smiles. "But he agrees I still need to meet with him to work out how I feel about my parents and stuff."

"I'd say that's a fair assessment," Kurt agrees. "But I think you've come such a long way since you told me about the wedding, and since you came out to your parents."

"I do feel like a huge weight has been lifted," Blaine admits. "Obviously it's all turned out better than I ever expected, and the feeling of there being no more secrets is a wonderful feeling to have. There was a time when I thought I was going to end up completely alone. No family, no friends except Santana, and no you. I was agonising over how unfair it would be to expect Santana's loyalty, but most of all I was upset that you might not be in my life anymore. That you'd just be a nice memory that ended in the worst possible way. And I'm not sure how I would have ever coped with that."

"I know I couldn't have left it that way," Kurt says with a shake of his head. "Because I know that right now? Here, this very second in time? I've never been more in love with you. And I know that if we hadn't reconciled, I would have spent the rest of my life wondering 'what if?' And that would have been unbearable."

"I'm glad we don't have to consider it," Blaine says, stopping him on the sidewalk and ignoring the passers by to wrap his arms around him and kiss him tenderly.

"I want you to love yourself," Kurt admits shyly, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I want you to be able to look at yourself and see all that I do, because you're truly remarkable. And above everything, I want you to forgive yourself for all that happened, because I forgive you completely."

"I'm working on it," Blaine says quietly, his eyes downcast. "I perhaps don't hate myself as I did a few weeks ago, and I do feel like I have a purpose once again... Because weirdly, I know that I do make you happy, so that's it, that's my reason for existing."

"It's the best reason there can be," Kurt says, resting their foreheads together. "Cause we may not have gone about it in the conventional pattern," he says, stopping to smile, "But we were always meant to be."

"My one and only," Blaine grins.

"My beau."

They walk on some more, grinning at each other like the lovesick fools they are and laughing at the huffing, agitated busy New York inhabitants who have to walk around them as they wander slowly along, arm in arm.

"My mom texted me," Blaine says suddenly and a little proudly. "It's the first text she's ever sent me. It was only to check your card had arrived, but even so, it was a text. And she put a kiss on the end."

"I'd imagine she's been wanting to text you for years," Kurt says with an indulgent smile at his husband who suddenly seems so vulnerable once again. "But I think the way you were over Thanksgiving has given her the green light to do so."

"Hmm. I told her we'd be there for Christmas Day, is that right?"

"Yes. If we're flying back Christmas Eve we may as well go straight there, then head to dad's the next day after dinner. Hey, will your dad be taking midnight mass, or whatever?"

"Yes," Blaine says warily. "Why?"

"We should go," Kurt says decisively.

"Oh no."

"Why not? You know he'd be pleased- even if he doesn't admit it."

"No."

"You've seen my dad's workplace, now I want to see yours," Kurt tells him. "It's just a job, Blaine. That's all. And anyway, there's something quite...quaint...I guess, about church on Christmas."

"Fine," Blaine sighs, rolling his eyes. "We'll go. But I'm telling you, if Jessalyn Myer is home for the holiday and comes anywhere near me, I'm leaving."

"Deal," Kurt laughs as they arrive at the diner and Blaine holds the door open for him. "And by the way? I love you."

They sit at the table opposite Sam and Artie, and an overexcited Rachel comes bounding over to their table to take their order, though she seems to forget all about that as she gushes over how many songs she's performed already and it's only eleven o'clock. Eventually Sam reminds her that they want to eat, and she scurries off to the kitchen, ruffling Blaine's hair just to annoy him.

"Get off!" he calls after her, making Santana laugh as she passes by.

"Are you...?" Sam starts, but Blaine cuts him off.

"Don't even ask!" he cries. "For the final time, Rachel is not my sister. You've been dating her for more than two months. You should know this by now."

"I wasn't going to say that, actually."

"Oh. Sorry, Sam."

"That's okay," he says amiably. "I was just going to ask, are you sure your mom didn't have a girl baby and a boy baby, and give the girl baby to two gay guys to raise as theirs?"

"Ooh!" Kurt laughs, rocking back in his seat and clapping his hands.

"I'm sure," Blaine says stony faced. "Rachel is not, in any way whatsoever, related to me."

"And if you knew Blaine's parents, you'd know just how unlikely that whole scenario was," Kurt says, still laughing as Artie shakes his head in disbelief.

"So changing the subject," he says. "Kurt. What did Blaine get you?"

"Boots," Kurt says proudly, hoisting his leg up.

"Get your feet off the table, Hummel," Santana hollers across the diner. "Nice boots, by the way."

"Kurt Geiger," he calls back proudly, standing up and stretching his long legs out for all to admire his footwear.

"She knows," Blaine laughs, gesturing for him to sit back down. "She came with me to buy them."

No sooner is Kurt seated again and his phone vibrates with a text. Assuming it will be his dad or Carole, he pulls his phone from his pocket and takes a look, trying not to splutter outrageously as his face turns red.

**Your ass is so sexy in those jeans. I want it.**

He manages to somehow stay composed, and he absolutely does not turn his head to the left, but he does become acutely aware of Blaine's leg pressed against him, from the top of their thighs down to their ankles, and he texts back quickly.

_You can have it. Anytime, baby._

**You're supposed to play hard to get! **Blaine texts back, trying not to laugh out loud.

_Oh. Sorry! I have no shame. I want you too. In fact, I know exactly what I want, if you'd like me to tell you?_

**Yes.**

**Please.**

**Kurt? Stop talking. Blah, blah, who cares what happened in teenwolf? Text me. Text meeeeee!**

"Blaine, who are you texting?" Sam asks, turning his attentions to the boy buried in his phone.

"Santana."

"She's just over there," Sam says in confusion. "And she's not allowed her phone when she's working, is she?"

"Santana plays by her own rules," he says, firing off a completely inane text to her. "Watch."

Pulling the phone from her apron pocket, Blaine watches as she tells the customers to wait, reads the message, looks over to him and waves.

"Lopez!" the manager booms. "No phones!"

"Whatever."

_I want your tongue in my ass._

"Holy fucking shit!" Blaine cries.

"Damn, Blaine!" Artie laughs. "What did she reply? I've never heard you curse like that!"

Blaine doesn't respond, staring open mouthed at Kurt who offers a sly grin. "I believe I won that round," he says quietly, slipping his phone into his breast pocket and tapping it smugly.

"Are we missing something?" Sam asks, looking between them.

"Nothing at all," Kurt says brightly, while Blaine still stares.

"Okay guys, here's your food," Rachel says as she unloads a large tray. "And our shifts are done, so we'll catch you later. Enjoy the rest of your day, Kurt," she smiles.

"Woah! Hold up," he calls after her. "If you've finished, you can join us."

"Rach and I have plans," Santana says, arriving at her side. "To celebrate her getting hired. But thank you. Love you both," she says brightly, blowing kisses toward them. "Have fun!"

"Oh." Disheartened, Kurt settles back in his chair, poking at his food with his fork, but it's hard to stay upset when your rather striking husband takes your hand and squeezes gently, and when you look up he winks in a way which makes your heart race.

"Don't worry about them," Blaine whispers, dropping a quick kiss to his cheek. "We have plans of our own."

Once brunch is finished, Blaine drags Kurt toward the subway, emerging onto Broadway with a bright smile and a bounce in his walk which tells Kurt a surprise awaits. They walk hand in hand along the street, coming to a stop outside the Gershwin theater where Blaine gestures up to the sign.

"Happy Birthday...again," he smiles.

"Wicked? I love Wicked! It's my favorite!" Kurt cries, flinging his arms around Blaine's neck and hugging him tight. "This is the best! Oh my god, Blaine, thank you!"

"Welcome," Blaine laughs, eagerly returning the hug.

"But you didn't have to do all this for me," he says, eyes turning tender as he cups his cheek.

"Uh... Actually, I did," Blaine says, tugging Kurt until he's leaning back against the wall of the theater with Kurt between his legs. "I know material gifts don't compensate for what I did, but I really wanted to use your birthday as an opportunity to shower you with the time and attention you deserve, because you are just...everything to me," he tells him, eyes wide with sincerity. "My one and only husband whom I love and adore, and who has picked me up and dusted me down so many times that I can't even count. I know I might be dealing with a lot of issues right now, but I never want you to think you don't make me happy, because you do. More than I've ever been. So today is my chance to say thank you, and to show you how much you're loved," he grins, pulling Kurt closer. "Plus, I really wanna put my tongue in your ass," he whispers, laughing loudly when Kurt shrieks in disbelief and his cheeks turn pink. "C'mon. Let's go inside."

Kurt is surprised again when he finds Santana and Rachel waiting for them in the foyer, and he kisses each of them in turn, reserving a long lingering kiss to the lips for Blaine, which has the girls nudging each other and trying not to squeal. "You guys are officially the best," he says happily. "I can't believe you two were willing to spend out on tickets just to be with me."

"Oh we didn't pay," Rachel says nonchalantly.

"We wouldn't be here if we'd had to pay," Santana adds as she leads them into the theater. "Blaine bought all the tickets in return for me agreeing to stay at your place all weekend."

Kurt turns to him with a look. "You indulge them."

"I know," he shrugs. "But we have the apartment to ourselves until Monday morning." His voice comes low and hot in Kurt's ear as they file into their seats. "Which means tonight? I'm gonna bend you over the back of the couch and bury my face in that tight little ass until you scream... Baby," he adds, grinning smugly as he sits and crosses his legs.

Kurt stays standing for a moment, his mouth agape until Santana snaps at him to sit down and he falls into his seat, still stunned.

"I believe I just won round two," Blaine smirks, folding his hands in his lap. "Excellent."

"Because Elphaba gets me, every time," Kurt gushes as Blaine rests his chin on his hand and smiles at him indulgently. They had all loved the show, it was a second visit for Blaine and Santana and a fourth for Rachel and Kurt, but it still left them all sitting stunned into silence at the end, and Kurt delicately wiping away a tear. The girls had departed soon after, leaving Blaine to take Kurt to dinner at a quaint little French restaurant where they now sit sharing a bottle of red with Kurt having devoured his dinner and several mouthfuls of Blaine's boeuf bourguignon.

"Did you know I can sing Defying Gravity better than Rachel?" he carries on, more than a little proudly.

"I don't doubt it." Blaine blinks and continues to gaze adoringly at his animated husband, brought alive by the sights and sounds of Broadway.

"I can. She wouldn't admit it, of course. But I know I'm better. Oh my god!" he says, dropping his fork as he suddenly realizes. "This is the best birthday I've ever had!"

"I'm glad," Blaine says with a small laugh. "I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt beams. "Is there dessert? We're getting dessert, right?"

"I have never known anyone eat as much as you do," Blaine says, handing him a menu.

"It's not like I'm not burning it off," he says coolly as he studies his menu. He makes his choice then watches Blaine, head down as he reads the detail of every dessert there is. Slowly, Kurt lets his foot run over the inside of Blaine's ankle, making him look up sharply.

"Did you just kick me? I was only joking about how much you eat."

"No- no, I didn't mean to kick you. I was trying to play footsie," he blushes.

"Oh. Um... I guess the boots aren't much good for that," Blaine laughs. "Not that I've ever done it before, but uh..." Slipping one loafer off, he slides his foot up the inside of Kurt's leg, lingering at the top of his thigh before rubbing his toes over Kurt's crotch then letting his foot fall. "I think you're supposed to do it a bit like that."

"Do it again," Kurt whispers.

"Really?"

Kurt nods, and Blaine slides his foot up again, rubbing for longer and a bit more insistently this time, until he can feel Kurt start to harden under his touch and he lowers his menu to look at him. The spark is instant, the way Kurt's chest is heaving, his lips rosy and cheeks pink, eyes dark with desire just does it for Blaine, and it is he who whimpers at the sight, toes curling around Kurt's erection as it grows.

"I think round three is a draw," Kurt breathes, then slams his menu shut. "I want dessert at home."

"Fine by me."

The subway ride home is agony but Blaine- emboldened by the wine no doubt- plays it to his advantage, snaking one arm around Kurt's waist and holding him back against him, making sure Kurt can feel how turned on he is by pressing himself in between his cheeks.

"I want your clothes off the second we get through the door," he whispers, and Kurt gulps and nods. "And I want you spread out for me," he carries on, pulling Kurt closer when he softly moans. "Because I want to take you this time."

"Jesus Christ," Kurt says, spinning in Blaine's hold to face him and wrap his arms about his neck. "I want you." And he kisses him full on the mouth, right there and then, in the middle of a crowded subway car on a busy Saturday night.

Blaine is shocked, but responds eagerly, letting his tongue find its way into Kurt's mouth as his fingers dig into his hip. The second the car pulls into the station they are gone, running the entire way home with breathless laughter and excited smiles. They stumble up the stairs, Blaine's lips marking a trail down Kurt's neck even as he fumbles with the key in the lock. Falling through the door, Kurt throws his coat somewhere before attacking Blaine's and then it becomes a frenzy of tugging at buttons and zippers, soft whimpers and moans mixed with the sound of lips on skin and the huge, almighty crash of Blaine's back against the piano when Kurt attempts to pin him against it.

"Ow!"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Kurt cries, spinning him around and ignoring their naked arousal to rub over the huge dark red welt appearing just below Blaine's shoulder blades. "Shit. Let me get you some ice."

"Don't you dare," Blaine growls, taking his turn to spin Kurt around and marching him toward the couch. "It's fine. I'm fine. Now bend."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asks, even as he leans over the arm of the couch, resting his elbows on the seat. "I really think...uuuuuhhhhhhh." His worry comes to an abrupt end at the feeling of Blaine's tongue running down his crack, his hands spreading him open for his mouth to be as close as possible.

He doesn't waste any time, too desperate with the force of his longing to consider such trivialities as drawn out teasing. Instead, he laps eagerly over Kurt's hole, pulling back to admire the way is glistens and seems to beckon him in. And he goes again, pressing with the point of his tongue before flattening it out and licking over him once more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Kurt shouts, trying not to writhe around too much. "Blaaaaaine...shit...oh god..." his mouth keeps up a string of curses while Blaine's mouth keeps busy, working Kurt open until he's desperate for more, pushing back to meet Blaine's face, who moans his appreciation. "Fuck me, Blaine! Please! Oh my god. Let me feel your cock in my ass, Blaine, oh my _god_."

Blaine breaks away with a grin, sprinting to the bedroom and jumping onto his bed to fumble under the pillow, retuning seconds later to find Kurt still in the same position, only now he's stroking himself slowly, his head resting on his other arm thrown across the seat of the couch.

"You look so good like that," Blaine says, slicking his fingers and kissing along Kurt's spine. "You're beautiful...and mine."

"Yes," Kurt agrees brokenly. Blaine gently stills his hand and removes it, placing it up alongside the other one on the couch.

"Not yet," he whispers, rubbing a soothing hand over Kurt's back as he slides one finger into his already open hole. "See how long you can last."

"Not long." Kurt gasps at the feeling of Blaine already pushing a second finger inside, though he stretches around it easily, seems to welcome it even, and Blaine can't resist leaning down to lick around his rim again.

"Yeah you can," he says, biting his ass cheek lightly. "You wanna feel me inside you."

"I do... Oh...I do," Kurt whimpers as a third finger enters him. "Now, Blaine. Please...I need you."

Blaine slicks himself quickly, but pauses with his dick pressed to Kurt's entrance. "Uh..."

"You okay?"

"What if I'm really terrible at this?" he asks in a sudden moment of fearfulness. "You're really good at it, and what if I'm not? Like, what if it's a thing I can't do?"

Kurt stands, turning to take him in his arms and press his lips into his damp hair. "I love you, Blaine. I love you so much and this is never going to be terrible, because we both want each other and want to be close to each other. If you want to switch, we can, but I'm telling you, you will not be bad."

Nodding meekly, Blaine looks up when Kurt's finger lifts his chin and lets himself be kissed, over and over until he's hard and aching once more. "Okay," he murmurs against the salty taste of Kurt's neck. "Okay. Just tell me...okay? Like with the blow jobs."

"Well you perfected that pretty darn quickly," Kurt smiles, kissing his lips once more before resuming his original position. "But I promise to tell you what I think."

Blaine pushes in slowly, totally unprepared for the feeling and finally understanding why Kurt always moans so happily about him being tight. He stills, trying to gather himself for a moment, and his trembling fingers dig hard into Kurt's hips.

"Oh god. I've never..."

"So this is what it feels like," Kurt murmurs into the couch at the same time, making them both laugh.

"Kurt... You're perfect," Blaine says in awe, then stares down as he pulls all the way out and back in again, just because he can. "That's..."

"It's a good angle to watch from," Kurt smiles. "And this is a damn good angle to feel from... When you move, that is."

"Oh, yes!" Blaine becomes aware that he's unmoving, too amazed at the feeling of Kurt clenching around him to even contemplate anything else. "Move. Yes." His thrusts are short and shallow at first, fearful of hurting Kurt in some way, but then Kurt reaches back to grab his thigh.

"Harder," he begs.

So Blaine obliges, holding Kurt tight and driving deep and fast, screwing his eyes shut and letting the feel of Kurt's body rule his senses. "Fuck...oh..." His hips slam against Kurt's backside repeatedly, and Kurt's reactions spur him on, until he opens his eyes again and stops suddenly. "Turn around," he pants, withdrawing for Kurt to roll onto his back.

"Mine," Blaine says simply, before leaning down to kiss Kurt hard and rough. He tugs him about until Kurt's back lies on the couch, ass on the edge and legs up on Blaine's shoulders, and this time when he pushes in, he takes up an unrelentless pace, balls slamming against Kurt's ass as he grips behind Kurt's knees and moans loudly.

"Blaine!" Kurt yells. "Fucking...yes...yes..." Fumbling blindly for his cock, Kurt becomes breathless, aware that some kind of high pitched moan is coming from him but powerless to stop it as Blaine's cock grazes over his prostate again and again until both are coming hard, dripping in sweat, out of breath and completely exhausted. Blaine stays standing, his head resting wearily against Kurt's calf, but his legs soon begin to shake uncontrollably and he pulls out, sinking to the floor and tossing his briefs up to Kurt to clean up.

"Well," Kurt says when he is done, rolling to the floor and taking Blaine in his arms. "I feel we might have just quashed any remaining barriers there."

Blaine laughs, and laughs harder when Kurt joins in, the reverberations running through him. "That was awesome."

"Don't use lame adjectives," Kurt admonishes.

"That's not lame!" Blaine protests weakly against his chest, but Kurt disagrees.

"That was astounding, mind-blowing, majestic, tremendous and wonderful," Kurt tells him. "And you are most definitely not useless at that."

"And all those adjectives are superfluous," Blaine grins, playing him at his own game. "A drawn-out way of you thanking me for the hot birthday sex."

"Pleased with yourself, are we?" Kurt asks, snuggling down on to the rug and kissing Blaine sweetly.

"Exhausted and exhilarated," Blaine informs him. "I loved it. And just think of all the possibilities now."

"Oh I am, Blaine. I am." Kurt smiles up at the ceiling, holding Blaine tight to his chest. "Happy Birthday to me."


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N- Thank you all, once again, for reading and reviewing. I will be back with the sequel (threequel?!) to WMUI and AFY- Once in a Lifetime- very soon. I have some stuff going on right now, so it won't be as quick as I'd like, but the first chapter will go up on Sunday 2nd March, and the schedule will be sun, weds, fri as always._

_In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the final chapter. _

* * *

Blaine links his arm through Kurt's and they step out into the cold night air, breath puffing out in little clouds as they walk slowly away from the church, the sound of carols still playing in the background. Kurt studies Blaine out the corner of his eye, noticing how straight and tall he walks now, head held high with a small smile playing on his lips, and he gives him a gentle nudge. Turning his head, Blaine smiles and returns it, prompting Kurt to do the same again.

"Okay, what?" Blaine asks with a laugh.

"You enjoyed that service," he says knowingly.

"It was boring."

"It was not!" Kurt laughs at Blaine's surliness. "It was cute, and made me feel all warm and fuzzy. You're proud of your dad, admit it."

"I've heard him preach a hundred times."

"I know that," Kurt says evenly. "But you're viewing him with different eyes now, because your relationship has changed. There's no more secrets. He knows you, and you know him. And I know," he says with another nudge, "that you were proud of him this evening."

Blaine is silent as they walk on, but Kurt is aware of him glancing across every so often, and he eventually stops and huffs loudly. "Your accuracy frightens me."

"I love you," Kurt says simply. "It's my job to know you."

They arrive at the car, and Blaine leans against it, pulling Kurt close. "Merry Christmas," he whispers, leaning up slightly to kiss at his lips.

Brian locks the church door, turning to Mary and Cooper. "That went well, I thought," he says with a smile. "It was good to have the whole family there again, and Kurt made a point of telling me he enjoyed the sermon. Yes." Drawing himself up to his full height, he puffs out his chest proudly. "It went well. Where are they, anyway?" he asks as they walk down the path.

"They decided to go on home," Mary says. "Kurt suggested they make hot chocolate for everyone."

"Uh..." Cooper stops in his tracks when he spies Blaine and Kurt against the car, sharing sweet kisses. "We uh..."

"Oh." Brian stiffens but stays watching as Blaine- oblivious to anyone looking on- rubs his nose against Kurt's then whispers something in his ear to make him laugh.

"Do they have to do that right outside a church?" Mary whispers. "_Your_ church?"

"I don't think they planned to, Mary," Brian says as calmly as he can. "And it's not my church, it's God's."

Cooper steers his mom in the opposite direction, toward their own car, but Brian remains rooted to the spot, and as Kurt brings one hand up to cup Blaine's cheek and their lips meet again, Brian is struck with how mesmerised they are with one another- so much so that they are prepared to share such a tender moment of love and affection outside a church in Ohio, where people who have known Blaine since he was a child walk past disgusted, before doing a double take when the streetlight catches on Blaine's face.

"Isn't that your boy, Pastor Anderson?" Mrs. Myer asks from by his side.

"Yes, it is." He turns his attentions away from Blaine and Kurt to look the shocked woman square in the eye. "And his husband. They were in the service tonight, didn't you see?"

"His husb...I...he...you... His husband?"

"Yes," Brian repeats, feeling oddly calm and at peace. "They were in the front row, with Mary and Cooper."

"I saw them," she nods, mouth still hanging open in shock. "But I didn't know Blaine was... that...Oh Pastor Anderson. I'm so sorry," she says with a hand on his arm. "I'll pray for you. For all of you. Especially him. In the meantime, I suggest you tell the other boy he's not welcome and make sure to keep them apart as much as you possibly can. Actually, I know a doctor who could help. He goes to the Pentecostal church in Worthington. He could..."

"Mrs. Myer," Brian interrupts. "Please. No prayers are necessary. Blaine and his husband are home with us for Christmas, and so is Cooper. I really couldn't be happier. There is nothing wrong with either of my boys, and certainly no doctor is ever going to cure Blaine of his homosexuality, that's just not how it works. Blaine is who he is, and right now he's a loved up newlywed looking forward to his first Christmas as a married man. Might I suggest, if you really feel the need to offer prayers on this subject, that you pray for yourself and others to learn tolerance, acceptance and understanding? Because in my view, love is love. And right now, I've never been prouder of my son. Merry Christmas."

The short drive home is virtually silent, with no one knowing what to say. Unsurprisingly, the house is in darkness when they arrive, and it is a full half hour more before Blaine and Kurt burst through the door, eyes shining bright and lips swollen and red.

"Oh!" Blaine says in surprise. "We thought you'd be longer. Sorry. Uh...we...were..." he takes a deep, shaking breath and glances at Kurt before trying again. "We had to..."

"We saw you," Brian says, and Kurt looks down at the floor and bites his lip. "We saw you kissing against the car."

"Dad... I'm so sorry," Blaine whispers, mortified.

"Why?"

"Why? Because I don't want to make you feel awkward, that's why," Blaine says sadly.

"You didn't," he shrugs, getting out of the armchair and heading toward the kitchen. "You made me feel nostalgic, if anything," he says as Blaine and Kurt follow him. "I can remember stealing kisses from your mom after midnight communion," he says with a smile. "Lots of times. But the year her stomach was swollen with Cooper, I leaned into kiss her and he kicked his protest," Brian laughs. "And he arrived a week later. Your mom and I used to joke he came three weeks early just so he could keep an eye on me."

Blaine falls onto a stool in relief, and Kurt stands next to him, putting a protective arm around his shoulders. "Um...I'm sorry too," he says as Brian fills a pan with milk and Mary and Cooper come into the room. "You invited me for the holidays and I certainly didn't mean to repay you by..."

"Kurt, really, it's okay," Mary says, taking everyone by surprise. "You didn't do anything wrong. Nothing about that was explicit, or inappropriate. I don't want you to feel ashamed of loving each other. Please."

"And other than being disappointed that there wasn't hot chocolate waiting for me, I'm good," Cooper says with a teasing grin. "Though you knew that already."

"Thank you," they both mumble, embarrassed and overwhelmed.

"You might need to dodge the wrath of Mrs. Myer for the rest of your visit though, Blaine," Brian says. "If she's not too busy praying for my mortal soul, that is."

"Did she say something?" Blaine asks.

"A few things," Brian nods. "But she's probably just put out that her matchmaking of you and Jessalyn won't come to fruition. Now, Kurt, help me with this cocoa. I haven't a clue what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Did you mean all that?" Mary asks after Brian finishes telling her about his conversation.

"Actually, I did," he says, turning out the light and pulling up the covers. "I surprised myself with how much their kissing didn't bother me. It was sweet, actually, to see them like that. Maybe I was a little intrusive, to stand and watch, but it gave me an insight into their relationship that I wouldn't have otherwise, because in that moment all that existed for them was each other. And it was quite special to watch."

"Do you think Agnes Myer will put in a complaint?"

"I don't know," Brian shrugs. "But I do know that if my congregation want to fire me because I have a gay son, that says more about them than it does me. I've thought and prayed long and hard about this, Mary. I've wondered if my belief in Blaine and Kurt's relationship means I no longer believe in the bible, but I don't think it does. I still think the overwhelming message Jesus wanted to bring, was to love each other. So some guy several hundred years ago decided to write that you can't lie with another man... But is that for us to deny someone their right to love and be loved? Blaine is- and will continue to be- a much happier person because he has Kurt in his life, and the support and acceptance of both families. If we stamp our feet, tell him it's a sin and goes against nature, then that estranges him from us and makes for misery and pain all round, and I just don't see how any loving God could want that for his children. I don't believe my acceptance and love for my son and his husband makes me a bad Christian, far from it. I think it makes me better. So I can live with whatever comes our way because of all this, because I know my God would never want me to abandon my son."

There is a rustle of covers in the darkness, and then Brian feels his wife press close to his side, her hand resting on his chest. "Brian?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"I have never loved you more."

"I have an announcement," Blaine says proudly the next day over dinner.

"Oh Blaine, no," Mary says hastily. "Why do you have to save these things for the dinner table?"

"No, it's not shocking and life changing," Blaine laughs. "It's just... I've been doing a placement at a Kindergarten in Brooklyn for this last semester, and um... They've offered me a job," he says proudly. "Being a class assistant three times a week. Also, the teacher in my class is due to retire when I graduate, meaning...hopefully...I could take over."

"Blaine, that's wonderful!" Cooper says, reaching across to shake his hand.

"I know you don't think Kindergarten teacher is a man's profession," he says to his dad, but Brian is quick to interrupt.

"Actually, I can see you'd be very good at it," he says. "And I'm pleased for you. You have responsibilities now, a duty to provide for Kurt as well as yourself. So it's important to have a stable and secure job. Do you know what you want to do, Kurt?"

"Well I graduate this summer," he says, "and I'm going to study for my masters while hopefully working in theater, so then I can teach at college level."

"Excellent," Brian nods. "Make sure we have tickets to your shows."

"I got a tattoo of a dolphin on my butt."

Blaine chokes on his water at the timing of Cooper's confession and Mary looks between them both. "Cooper? Why are you being strange?"

"I did," he says. "They got drunk and got married, I got drunk and got tattooed."

"Cooper, is this a joke?" Brian asks warily.

"Nope." Standing, Cooper lowers his pants and pulls down the back of his underwear, revealing the tattoo to his shocked parents. "There." He pulls up and sits down again. "No more secrets. Unless you two got drunk and did something startling."

"We did not!" Mary says primly, still shocked.

"Mary threw up in my hair on our wedding night," Brian says suddenly, making Blaine choke again. "We snuck up to our room with a bottle of champagne. Neither of us had ever touched alcohol before. It took us a week to get over the hangovers and actually be able to consummate the marriage."

"Ew!" Cooper shouts. "That last part? We did not need to know!"

"It took us eight months," Blaine says quietly, but everyone hears and Kurt shrieks his protest. "Do you mind?! Blaine! These are your parents! Oh my goodness," he groans. "I want to die."

But the laughter around the table, and the happy relaxed atmosphere, makes Kurt forget all about any awkwardness, as for the first time in many years, the Andersons have a truly happy Christmas.

New Year is spent with Burt and Carole, before all four fly to New York to help with the move. It goes well- if you don't count the five hours it takes to dismantle and reassemble Blaine's enormous bed- but both were reluctant to leave it for the new tenants. And when they finally sink into it that night- in their newly partitioned bedroom, thanks to Burt- it is with an enormous sigh of relief.

"I had plans to screw you senseless on our first night in here," Kurt murmurs, holding his arm out for Blaine to snuggle in. "But I'm too tired to move, so it'll have to be tomorrow."

"Wow. So charming," Blaine chuckles, kissing along his collarbone. "Of course, you could just stay there while I ride you..."

"Blaine, Kurt won't tell us what you got him for Christmas," Rachel announces as she marches in and sits on the bed. "We think it's because you forgot to get him a gift."

"Oh please." Blaine sits, indignant at the intrusion and the assumption. "I got him a gift."

"Knock, woman!" Kurt grumbles. "You too," he adds as Santana walks in.

"On a curtain?" she asks, raising one eyebrow.

"On the wooden frame!" Kurt shrieks, becoming more annoyed by the second. "And dad's coming back next month to do doors, anyway. Ours will have a lock."

"Why? It's not like you two ever do anything," Santana says as Rachel hides a laugh. "Every time I walk in on you in bed, you're wearing pajamas and talking. Oh, apart from one time, when you were reading the newspaper together. Wild."

"You..." Blaine starts, but an insistent Rachel cuts him off.

"Did you get him a gift then? Why won't he tell us what it is? What did Kurt get you?"

"We got each other gifts," Blaine says shyly. "We know what those gifts are, too. We just haven't gotten around to exchanging them yet."

"Why?"

"That makes no sense," Santana cries. "You two are so bizarre. If you have gifts, just hand them over to each other."

"No," Kurt snaps, crawling across the bed to push them off the end. "The moment has to be right, and that's certainly not with you two in the room. Now go."

"Fine," Rachel huffs. "But when you do exchange, we want to know what the gifts are."

"Weirdos," Santana calls over her shoulder.

"Ugh." Falling back against the pillows, Blaine flips out the light and kisses Kurt's lips. "Goodnight, my one and only."

"No riding?"

"Not now," he grumbles. "Tomorrow, like you said."

"Thanks for saying I could be on the same shift schedule as you," Rachel smiles as Santana joins her behind the counter. "It's nice for the boys to get some time alone."

"Welcome," she says amiably, taking the ketchup bottles to refill. "And yeah, I agree. If they get time alone they're more inclined to be sociable the rest of the time."

"I wonder what they're doing right now?" Rachel says dreamily, staring out into the distance as she thinks of the two cute lovebirds cozied up at home.

"Probably fucking each other into the middle of next week."

"Santana!" Rachel cries, but she laughs in spite of herself.

"Actually, they're probably incapable. They'd keep stopping to ask each other if they were okay. Or they'd blush so hard at the first inappropriate squelching noise that they'd be unable to continue."

Rachel all out giggles this time, swatting Santana with her dish towel before picking up her notepad. "You know them too well."

"Yes, Blaine! Yes!" Kurt cries, legs wrapped around Blaine's waist as he drives deeper. "Fuck me...fuck me so hard!"

"Take it," Blaine forces out through gritted teeth, gripping Kurt's hips tighter as he pounds into him mercilessly. "Fucking take it...shit...yes..."

"You know..." Rachel continues as she returns to the counter, sliding her order through the hatch to the chef. "I'll bet they make love really slowly and quietly. That's kinda cute, I guess. I've never heard them, and my old room was right next door to Kurt's. Have you?"

"Nope," Santana shakes her head, collecting as many ketchup bottles as she can to return to the tables. "I caught them kissing in the kitchen once. Kurt was sitting on the counter and Blaine was stood between his legs. It was...intimate, more than passionate. Blaine apologized to me non stop for a week, like I'd caught him getting sucked off."

*  
"Talk to me, Blaine," Kurt begs, gripping the edge of the sink harder as Blaine slams into him again. "Get me there."

"Yeah? You like that, huh? You like me telling you how pretty your ass is when I'm fucking it?"

"Yes! Yes! Oh god...Blaine..."

"Your tight little hole looks so good, baby. So good stretched around my cock. Yeah...fuck...so hot...watching me filling you up. And you take it so well..."

"They're probably on a netflix marathon," Santana notes an hour later as they pile the chairs onto the tables in the now empty diner. "Since two this afternoon. Disney classic after disney classic. Maybe a couple of musicals thrown in for good measure."

"And when we get home they will have fallen asleep on the couch, and they'll wake up all embarrassed," Rachel laughs.

"Yeah, and Blaine will hide in his room for the next three days because we saw Kurt's hand under his t-shirt, daringly resting on his own husband's chest."

"Ha!" Rachel laughs again and is unable to resist high fiving her new housemate. "Let's see how quietly we can roll back that enormous door."

"I can't..." Blaine moans as he rides Kurt, sweat dripping from his forehead into Kurt's eyes- not that he minds.

"You can," Kurt pants, fucking up into him. "You can. One more. Go on, baby, go on."

"Fuuuuuck," Blaine grunts, twisting his wrist around the head of his cock as his fifth orgasm in eight hours tears through him and a tiny dribble of come falls burningly from his cock. Kurt withdraws with an exhausted groan, letting his husband roll tiredly onto his side where he curls naked on the couch.

"Jesus fuck," Kurt moans, standing on wobbly legs and making his way unsteadily to the kitchen. "Bed, floor, bathroom, shower, couch."

"Kitchen," Blaine says suddenly right behind him, making him startle.

"What? No...no."

"Not fair," Blaine says hotly, taking Kurt's hands and placing them on the edge of the counter. "I'm on five, but you're only on four. I wouldn't want you to miss out. Now give me that tight little ass so I can rim you while you jerk off."

"Oh. They must be in bed already," Rachel says, disappointed that her stealthiness has gone unrewarded.

"It's ten thirty. Figures," Santana says, rolling her eyes as she throws her purse onto the couch, then stops dead as she hears a noise.

"Was that...?" Rachel starts, but she is silenced by Santana's hand on her arm, who then beckons her toward the kitchen.

"Your tongue," Kurt groans, forehead resting on the counter as he pushes back onto Blaine's face. "Your tongue...fucking me...feels so good, Blaine. Harder...fuck me harder."

"Retreat!" Santana hisses, as Blaine's hand spanks hard over Kurt's ass. Pulling a wide eyed Rachel back from the doorway she grabs both their purses. Forgetting all about being stealthy, Rachel slams the sliding door loudly back into place as they tear down the stairs and out onto the street, giggling wildly.

"What did you see? What did you see?" Rachel shrieks.

"Only Kurt moaning against the counter, and Blaine's feet...he was very obviously kneeling behind him," Santana splutters. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"I don't know whether to be disgusted that they were doing that in our shared kitchen, or in awe that they actually were doing that."

"In our shared kitchen," Santana adds.

"Do we say anything?"

"Are you out of your mind? They'd be mortified. And they're only doing what couples do...and clearly loving every second. If we let on that we saw anything Blaine will probably never be able to get it up again."

"I never imagined them to be like that," a still wide-eyed Rachel says.

"Me neither, but I guess that's what being married is all about," she shrugs. "Having a relationship that no one else ever truly gets to see."

"Wanna go down to Marie's bar and drink cocktails?"

"May as well, I don't think either of us will be able to sleep for a very long time."

"We're going to work, Blaine," Santana says slowly and clearly the next day. "We will be home just after ten thirty. Okay?"

"Okay," Blaine says, eyeing her strangely as she continues to stare down at him sitting on the couch. "Have fun."

"Ten thirty."

"What about it?"

"That is when we will be home," she continues loudly.

"Why are you talking to me like I'm foreign? Or deaf?"

"I'm simply letting you know that we will be working from two until ten, arriving home at ten thirty."

"Yeah, okay. I get it. God you're weird."

"What are your plans?" Rachel asks as casually as she can.

"Not a lot. Kurt's working until five. I've got some study to do, then I'll walk down and meet him."

"Then come back here?"

"Yes. It's where we live. What's going on?" he asks. "I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

"Nothing at all. Have fun," Rachel smiles. "And maybe...clean the kitchen. With bleach."

"She did that this morning," Blaine says, pointing to Santana. "I've never seen her clean anything before, much less bleach the entire kitchen."

"Well... We like to be sanitary," Rachel says brightly. "We'll see you later. Around..."

"Ten thirty, yes, I know," Blaine says, still frowning at their odd behavior.

But in the end Blaine doesn't walk to meet Kurt, or do his study. The second the girls leave the apartment he sets to work, dashing down to the deli on the corner before hurrying home to prepare a three course meal. By the time Kurt gets home- tired and looking forward to a lazy evening on the couch after yesterday's exploits- the entire place is transformed and Blaine stands next to a romantic candlelit table for two, wearing a tux and looking more nervous than Kurt has ever seen him.

"O-Kay," he says slowly, looking around the room which is lit by twinkling fairy lights and candles. "I've had my birthday, it's not yours until June, our anniversary is in April..."

"But we haven't exchanged Christmas presents yet, and it's January ninth."

"Oh!" Kurt's entire face lights up. "Ooh...I love you!" he cries, surging forward to capture Blaine's lips. "I'm changing. Wait there."

He is back in minutes, wearing an elegant navy suit which makes Blaine swoon as he pulls out his chair for him to sit. "You nervous?" Kurt asks when Blaine sets two starters of seared scallops down.

"Yeah." Settling opposite, he allows himself a moment to admire Kurt's breathtaking beauty before pouring two glasses of champagne.

"But why? It's just us."

"I know. But...it's special, isn't it?"

"I know. I'm petrified," Kurt admits, making them both laugh.

They settle into easy chatter over dinner and long after, finally getting a chance to talk about Kurt's first visit to the counsellor with Blaine, and the impending arrival of his dad the following weekend to attend a session.

"I'm not even nervous anymore," Blaine admits excitedly, "about the counsellor, I mean. And dad. It's like... I know nothing bad will come of it."

"That's so good to hear," Kurt smiles, reaching for his hand. "You know, when I went with you, I was happy to hear that Simon thinks you're doing so much better. I mean, I know; I can see it, and Christmas was just wonderful... But to hear he thinks the same...yeah. I'm proud of you, you know."

"Aw, I don't know about that..."

"Well I do," Kurt says firmly. "I'm telling you, you make me proud. Now. I believe we have gifts?"

"Not yet," Blaine says, his cheeks adorably flushed as he stands and offers his hand to Kurt. "Dance with me."

"Huh?"

"Dance with me."

"But there's no music."

Blaine rolls his eyes, and runs to his iPod Dock, setting it to play and returning to Kurt's side. "Dance with me."

"Oh!" Kurt's eyes fill with tears as Come What May starts to play. "Can this be ours?"

"For sure," Blaine smiles, and Kurt takes his hand.

They dance together, Blaine resting his head contentedly into the crook of Kurt's neck, happy to listen to him sing along until Kurt digs him in the ribs and he sings too, moving to hold Kurt by outstretched hands and spin him around on the spot for the final notes to die away.

"That was fun," Kurt laughs, breathless, but then his eyes grow darker, his face serious as he steps closer and drapes his arms over Blaine's shoulders. "You. I just... I love you." They kiss slowly and sweetly, pulling back to stare into one another's eyes, then Kurt surprises Blaine by dropping to one knee.

"I love you," he repeats, this time taking a small box from his pocket and sliding an elegant gold band onto his ring finger. "My husband."

"Oh Kurt." Blaine kneels opposite, taking an identical ring from his pocket and swiping at his eyes before holding Kurt's left hand in his and sliding the ring into place next to his engagement band. "Marry me."

"Huh?"

"Again. Marry me again."

"Wh-what do you...? What does that mean?" Kurt asks in confusion.

"Marry me again," Blaine repeats. "It sounds more romantic than 'let's renew the vows we never remember saying,'" he says with a shy laugh. "But that's what I'm asking. We have the rings," he says, gesturing to their hands. "We have the title, the relationship and the piece of paper saying we're joined in matrimony...but neither of us can remember exchanging those vows which mean so much... So I'm asking you to do it all again with me. A proper wedding. However and whenever you want. It can be just us, or just us and the girls, or all our family and friends, I don't care. We can get married indoors, outdoors or in the Central Park fountain for all I care. I just want us to look into one another's eyes and make those promises for real this time, because we know we mean every word. So please, Kurt Hummel... Will you marry me?"

Kurt looks into Blaine's eyes, mouth twitching into the biggest, brightest smile Blaine has ever seen him give and he kisses Blaine on the lips quickly before uttering one simple word.

"Yes."

And so, a year to the day since their Vegas nuptials, Kurt and Blaine stand in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and exchange vows in the bright spring sunshine surrounded by their family and friends. It is simple, elegant, understated yet beautiful, and both grooms manage to hold it together until Brian Anderson reads the bible passage that has come to mean so much to both of them.

Afterwards, when the speeches have been delivered over a long meal, and the tables are all pushed back against the walls, Kurt proudly leads his husband onto the dance floor as their song starts to play.

"Have you had a good day?" Blaine asks, voice barely lifting over the music.

"The absolute best," Kurt smiles. "And I'm excited for tonight. I've always wanted to stay at the four seasons, and now we have the honeymoon suite."

"Yeah," Blaine agrees. "Your dad and Carole sure know how to give an awesome wedding gift."

"Did you see him crying?"

"Yes. He cried onto my shoulder when I went to the bathroom too. It was awkward."

They both laugh, and Blaine draws Kurt a little closer, dropping a featherlight kiss to his cheek. "I'm um...I'm thinking of taking the counseling down to once a month."

He feels Kurt nod against him, his fingers sliding up to play with the curls at the base of his neck. "If you feel that's right."

"I do. I mean, I might need to go again more in the future, and I don't want to stop it altogether, but right now...I just don't feel the need to attend weekly."

"I agree. And that's good, that you're open to going again regularly if needed. Your parents going to all those sessions with you helped, I'm sure."

"As did your company," Blaine reminds him. "I feel like I have a clear direction and purpose, and I can honestly say that I like myself again."

"Good," Kurt smiles. "Because I happen to like you too. Now kiss me."

"Mr. Anderson-Hummel, It would be my absolute pleasure."

A loud cheer erupts when people notice the pair locked together in a passionate embrace, but rather than pulling away embarrassed, Blaine lifts Kurt off the ground, swinging him around while still kissing him, eventually setting him back on his feet and giving a bow to their guests before pulling him towards the bar.

"Uh.. Blaine, Kurt?" Brian Anderson calls after them. "Could I just talk with you a moment?"

"Sure," Blaine nods, and they follow him into the foyer where his dad stands awkwardly.

"I just wanted to offer my congratulations," he says sincerely. "It was a beautiful ceremony. I'm glad you came clean about Kurt not knowing all that time, Blaine," he says, reminding him about his tearful confession during one of their counseling sessions. "Because to me, it makes what you've achieved together all the more remarkable."

"I'm not sure mom sees it like that," Blaine says with a smile.

"No, but then she's still worrying Cooper will contract hepatitis all these years on from the tattoo," he laughs. "You know your mom, Blaine, and I hope you know that she loves you very much."

"I do."

"Well anyway." He fumbles in the pocket of his suit, pulling out a long envelope which he hands to them. "No wedding is complete without a honeymoon," he says, shyly, reminding Kurt very much of Blaine when he's feeling awkward. "Cancun. Two weeks. Booked for after Kurt's graduation." He shuffles a little on the spot under the startled gaze of the boys. "I uh...I didn't know where you would like to go, but Cooper thought you'd like it and..."

Blaine just nods, incapable of moving, so Kurt goes first, surprising Brian with a warm hug. "Thank you," he says, grinning widely. "We couldn't afford a honeymoon so... Thank you. And again, not just for this but for everything."

"You're very welcome," Brian nods, his gaze flitting worriedly to Blaine who is still unmoving. "If you don't want to go there, Blaine, you can change it I'm sure."

"No, I...I love it," Blaine nods, looking up and offering a real, genuine smile. "I'm just overwhelmed, once again, with your generosity...and I don't just mean in terms of this," he says, waving the envelope. "And um... I love you. That's all really. I love you, dad."

They hug tight, and Brian laughs when he realizes he can rest his chin on Blaine's head. "I think I'm glad you didn't grow," he says. "Because you're still my little boy. Now go," he says, straightening his jacket in an effort to hide his awkwardness, and Kurt smiles when he sees Blaine do the same. "Take your husband and get out of here. Just don't throw up in his hair."

Later, much later, when they're sated and curled in each other's arms, Blaine lets his fingers trail over Kurt's arm where it rests over his waist. "You know, a year ago, when I boarded that plane to Vegas, I moaned the entire way. I've never been as drunk as I was that night, and I don't think I ever will be again. But gosh, I'm glad that for once, I behaved like an absolute rebel."

"Ha! You can still be a little rebellious, when needed," Kurt says sleepily. "Like blowing me as I drove over the Brooklyn bridge."

"You nearly drove off the Brooklyn bridge."

"True."

"I love you, my one and only," Blaine says happily, kissing his lips. "Always and forever, my one true love."

"I love you too, my beau." Taking Blaine's left hand with his, he looks down at their wedding rings. "Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Hummel," he sighs. "How wonderful that sounds."


End file.
